Plans to Never Let You Go
by ShamelessLover3
Summary: In this AU everyone is born either a master or slave just like being born a boy or girl. At age 18 masters stake a claim for a slave, similar to marriage. Mickey Milkovich is a Master who claims slave, Ian Gallagher, over the desires of another master Kash. But when Kash really wants him he steals Ian. Remake of a story by YaDavid
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Ian opened his eyes as the timed lock on his cage clicked and the door slowly swung open. He rolled on to his back and stretched his legs and arms. Sleeping in his cage was never a real punishment. Mickey's tastes were too expensive and high class for that. The cage was made of the finest sterling silver and the mattress was more comfortable than most beds. The real punishment was being away from Mickey. Ian hated sleeping away from the warmth of his master's body and the soothing sound of his breathing. He was glad his punishment was only for one night. He would definitely be more careful when dancing around the house.

He crawled out and walked to the bathroom. Every morning he had 20 minutes before he had to take his place on his knees by Mickey's bedside. He kept an eye on the clock as he used the toilet, showered, brushed his teeth and mentally ran through his schedule for the day. At exactly 6:58 am he kneeled on the floor and waited. This was his favorite time of day. He loved Mickey's restful and peaceful expression. It was one of the rare times Mickey looked fully relaxed and beautifully serene. Especially these days.

At 7:00 am the alarm clock rang loudly. Mickey groaned and reached out blindly to smack the off button. He rolled over and reached out, his hands seeking Ian's body to pull towards him. Feeling no one he opened his eyes. It took him a moment to remember that it was Friday not Saturday, so Ian would be on his knees, plus he had made Ian sleep in the cage last night. He sighed. Who was really punishing who?

He rolled over and smiled at the sight of Ian kneeling on the floor, his hands folded in front of him, eyes downcast as he waited to be acknowledged.

"Good morning, Ian."

"Good morning, sir." Ian's eyes met Mickey's, a shy smile spreading across his face. Mickey reached over and tangled his fingers in Ian's still damp curls. Ian closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

Ian didn't move as Mickey stood up, stretched and walked to the bathroom. He returned a moment later. Ian licked his lips in anticipation.

Mickey smiled down at him as he held his thick cock in his hand and pressed it to Ian's lips. Ian moaned as he opened his mouth to accept and suck. Mickey's morning blowjob.

Mickey closed his eyes and threw his head back as he gripped Ian's hair. Ian's warm mouth sucked him perfectly. Down and up five times, three swirls of the tongue, slightly pull off, tease the head, repeat. Mickey pulled Ian's hair tighter as he felt himself getting closer. Ian recognized the signs and prepared himself. He knew every sign, every cue, every reaction of his master. He knew Mickey's body better than Mickey, and better than his own.

Mickey came with a long, drawn out groan. Ian swallowed and kept still, holding the soft, sensitive cock in his mouth. He would never dream of releasing it on his own.

Mickey pulled out and fell back on to the bed, eyes closed, breathing slightly rapid, but slowing. Such a wonderful way to start the day. He lay there for a few minutes before speaking.

"Toast, fruit and yogurt. You will wait for me."

"Yes sir."

Ian rose from the floor. Mickey pushed himself up on to his elbows and ran his eyes up and down Ian's naked body. He's sure Ian was hard during the blowjob, but not anymore. He knew the rules.

"Put on your boxers."

"Yes sir."

Ian walked over to the dresser, slid on a pair of boxers and went to the kitchen. Mickey showered and stood in front of his closet trying to remember what scene they were going to rehearse today. They weren't doing dress rehearsals yet, but Mickey liked to choose his outfit based upon what he imagined his character, Jonathan Jollaway, would wear. In the end he settled for a white shirt, gray vest and black jeans. Simple was best since it was probably going to be a long day. He picked out Ian's clothes and laid them on the bed.

He arrived in the kitchen to find Ian sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling in his writing book. It was the one thing Ian was allowed to do anytime he wanted. Mickey understood how quickly a lyric could pop into the mind and then disappear in an instant. He wanted Ian to always capture his thoughts.

Ian stopped writing when Mickey walked in.

"Finish your thoughts, Ian."

Ian smiled and returned to scribbling. Mickey poured the coffee, prepared it to their individual tastes, and sat down at the table. He took a bite of toast and watched as Ian continued writing, his eyes scrunched up, forehead wrinkled in deep concentration. Mickey couldn't help but smile and feel grateful that Ian belonged to him. He hated to think of Ian belonging to someone who refused to encourage his writing.

Lyrics captured, Ian closed his book and began eating.

"What scene are you rehearsing today?"

Mickey groaned. "The argument. Brad seems to think that arguing means screaming, not using voice inflection, or I don't know...acting to get the point across."

Ian laughed. Mickey shook his head. "You think I'm kidding, but I'm serious. The man cannot act. I will never understand why Kevin cast him. If I didn't believe so strongly in the show I would totally quit."

Ian smiled. Mickey would never quit a show. He'd worked too hard to reach this point. This was his second Broadway show and it was destined to put Mickey in the running for a Tony nomination.

"Will you be at the studio all day?"

Ian nodded. "I need to finish that song for Rachel."

"Okay. I will pick you up at 4:00 pm because Chandler and Seth are coming over tonight."

Ian grinned. "Is Seth bringing his guitar?"

"I'll ask Chandler if he can."

"Awesome!"

Mickey laughed at Ian's boyish exuberance. He really was a big kid at times.

"Go get dressed."

"Yes sir."

Mickey cleared the table and checked his bag to make sure he had all the script changes he'd reviewed last night. He walked into the bedroom where Ian was waiting, dressed but with his boxers and jeans down around his ankles. Mickey walked over to the dresser and took out the custom-made, hand-crafted, stainless steel cock chastity cage. He carefully placed Ian's cock inside and locked the small padlock. He placed the key on his dresser. He had a second key on his keyring. Ian pulled up his boxers and jeans. Mickey patted his crotch lovingly. Ian closed his eyes and willed away the erection he couldn't have anyway.

"Ready?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you have enough money for lunch?"

Ian nodded

"Okay. Let's go."

They walked outside just as Troy was pulling up in the Lincoln Town car. Ian's stop was first. When they pulled up in front of the building, Mickey reached over and ran his finger lightly along the beautiful collar he'd designed for Ian.

"Have a creatively productive day."

"Try not to be too hard on Brad. It's not his fault he's not as talented as you."

Mickey grinned. "And for that lovely comment you may have pizza tonight. I'll even let you and Seth order."

Ian's boyish grin returned. "Thank you, sir."

Mickey leaned over and kissed him softly. "Have a good day."

He watched Ian enter the building. As the car pulled away from the curb, he felt grateful for a second time that morning that Ian belonged to him.

* * *

Mickey Milkovich first laid eyes on Ian Gallagher during a visit to Dalton Academy. While being gay wasn't the huge issue it used to be within society, there were still those who took issue with it. Unfortunately for Mickey, they all seemed to attend McKinley. He'd grown sick of the bullying and harassment he experienced on a daily basis. He wanted to spend his last two years of school in peace.

As he and his father toured the school, the bell rang for the class change and they found themselves being swept into a meeting hall for an impromptu performance by the Warblers. The admissions director looked noticeably nervous about a potential parent seeing this slightly rowdy display, but Frank was amused and Mickey was mesmerized and shocked that a glee club was actually popular at an all boys school. As he watched the performance he couldn't take his eyes off the handsome lead singer. Mickey felt something stir deep inside, but he quickly squashed it. This boy was the lead singer which meant he was mostly likely a master. Masters were not allowed to claim other masters. Plus Mickey had no idea if the boy was gay or not.

At the end of the performance, as the boy laughed and congratulated his fellow Warblers on a job well done, Mickey was surprised to catch a glimpse of the thick, black ink stain around his left wrist. The boy was a slave. Frank noticed it too and looked at the admissions director in surprise.

"Dalton prides itself on allowing slaves to participate and sometimes lead certain activities. For many slave students, this will be their last and only time to do these types of things."

Frank nodded his agreement and approval. It was true. While some slaves were claimed by masters who encouraged them to pursue careers, many were not. Most slaves remained happily at home under the care and servitude of their master.

On his very first day at Dalton Mickey sought out Wes, head of the Warblers council. Once they were done discussing Mickey auditioning for the Warblers, he asked about their lead singer, Ian Gallagher. Was he gay? Was he seeing anyone?

Wes was hesitant. As a master and good friend, he was protective of Ian. Extremely protective. Ian's submissiveness ran stronger and deeper than most slaves due to his inherent nature and years of emotional neglect and abuse by his master mother. While most slaves only feared displeasing their masters, Ian lived with the fear of displeasing any master. He struggled to resist submitting to every master who gave him a command, making him an easy target for those with a mean streak. Thanks to Dalton's anti-bullying policy he was relatively safe at Dalton, but Wes worried about who would eventually stake a claim for Ian.

The one thing slaves wanted more than anything was to be claimed. To be claimed and dominated by a master was a slave's greatest desire, but the trick was being claimed by the right master. Parents of slaves tried to manage the process, but it wasn't easy. In a best case scenario, a slave and master would meet, date, fall in love and the master would stake a claim for the slave with the parent's permission. Sometimes slaves agreed to be claimed by masters their parents didn't like. In these cases, the parents were helpless to stop the claim from taking place. In a worse case scenario, a master would stake a claim against both the slave and parent's wishes. Rare, but not unheard of.

Once a master claimed a slave, the slave was captured unless the master decided to release them. The only recourse was the Eight Year Rescind Rule. If a slave was unhappy or the slave's parents wanted their child released, they had eight years from the initial date of the claim to request nullification by the Masters Ministry. After eight years the claim could only be broken by the master.

After a few Warbler practices and eating lunch together for a few weeks, Wes decided he liked Mickey. He seemed genuine and kind, yet with a strong, dominate nature. The perfect combination for Ian. He'd also observed Ian sneaking glances at Mickey. When he asked him if he was interested, Ian smiled shyly and nodded.

One Thursday after practice, Wes held the two boys back and made a formal introduction. They already knew each other from practice, but Wes carried on as if they were meeting for the first time.

"Dom Master Mickey Milkovich, allow me to present sub slave Ian Gallagher. Unclaimed."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Wes? It's been a month. We know each others name." Ian giggled quietly, eyes on the floor.

Mickey was intrigued by the intense submissiveness of Ian. It was such a contrast to the confident, beautiful boy he'd seen perform. He was also bewildered by the feelings Ian stirred inside him. He'd never felt such a strong pull towards someone before. He'd had inappropriate crushes on slaves who were straight, or masters who were gay, but never the deep, aching desire he felt for Ian. With Ian he felt the first longings for ownership and the need to dominate.

Ian felt just as overwhelmed by the feelings Mickey created. He'd spent most of his life trying not to get swallowed alive by the submissiveness that lived inside him. He considered being gay a blessing because it ruled out almost 80% of the masters who roamed the halls of Dalton. The masters who were gay and didn't already have their eye on someone were always approaching Ian, attracted to his sexy good looks and deep submissiveness. If Ian made it clear he wasn't interested, Wes and the rest of the Warblers made sure they kept their distance.

But Ian liked Mickey. Something about Mickey's eyes and gentle, yet firm voice told Ian he could trust him. That Mickey wouldn't abuse him or take advantage of him. At the same time, Ian was turned on by Mickey's masterful presence. Mickey was strong and demanding, but his dominance rippled through Ian versus falling on top of him and crushing him. Something about Mickey's tone ignited Ian's slave nature. He didn't obey Mickey because he had to. He wanted to. His entire body buzzed with the desire to serve and be dominated by Mickey. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw himself at Mickey's feet every time he entered the room.

They moved slowly spending most of their junior year becoming friends. At first it was hard for Mickey to draw anything out of Ian regarding his tastes or interests because he was so wired to want whatever Mickey wanted. But eventually he managed to learn that Ian's favorite cereal was Apple Jacks. He loved Star Wars and the Matrix movies, but also Broadway. And of course, music.

Music was Ian's passion. His first love. His safe place. As a child he would sing himself to sleep every night. When his mother would scream and berate him in disgust at his submissive slave nature, he would retreat into the safety of the songs in his head; eyes squeezed shut, singing silently to himself to drown out her voice. It was why he could stand up in front of an audience and sing his heart out. Music made him feel confident and strong and safe.

Once Mickey realized just how much Ian loved music, he sought ways to indulge him. They attended concerts, operas and the symphony. When Ian admitted his hope to one day write songs for Broadway musicals, Mickey bought him a writing book and encouraged him to put his thoughts and lyrics on paper.

By their senior year it was pretty clear to everyone that Mickey would stake a claim for Ian the moment Ian turned 18. They were in love. A strong, deep love made richer by the way they perfectly complemented each other. Ian's deep submissiveness was perfect for Mickey's strong, demanding nature. Mickey needed someone who would give themselves over completely, and Ian needed someone who would completely dominate him.

Their love and affection was obvious despite the strict state rules governing master-slave interaction prior to claiming. Hand holding was allowed along with rubbing the middle of the back and five second hugs. Mickey was allowed to wrap one arm around Ian's waist and Ian was allowed to lay his head on Mickey's shoulder. Anything additional was considered a violation, but that didn't keep Ian from sitting so close to Mickey that he may as well have been in his lap. His body was always curled into Mickey's, his eyes full of love and the desire to give himself to Mickey completely, totally...

Sexually.

But there were rules about that too.

It was illegal for masters and slaves under the age of 18 to have sex.

Even after reaching the age of 18, masters were strongly encouraged to wait until they had either staked a claim, or were 100% sure they were going to stake a claim. To have sex with a slave and then not claim them was considered mental abuse. Sex is a connector between a master and slave. It deepens the slave's submissiveness and desire to serve the master and creates a bond between the two. When the master simply walks away after creating this bond, the slave is left feeling lost and confused, desperate for the safety and comfort of a master. This led some slaves to fall prey to the worst types of masters. Masters who captured lost slaves and abused them or pimped them out to other masters for sex.

Frank could see the deep longing for capture in the way Ian stared at Mickey. He could also sense Mickey's strong feelings of possessiveness and ownership. He constantly reminded Mickey of the rules, much to Mickey's annoyance.

"Dad, please stop. I know the rules."

"I know you know the rules, Mickey. Doesn't mean you want to follow them."

"Of course I don't want to follow them, but I will." And jerk myself raw.

"I hear ya, kiddo. But why don't we go over chapter 8 in the state rule book just one more time?"

Frank had good reason to be concerned. Masters hit their full sex drive at age 18. Mickey was four months away from his 18th birthday. He would be teeming with hot sexual energy and desperate for relief, but he was 3 months older than Ian. He would have to wait until Ian turned 18 and could be claimed.

There was something else besides Mickey's self-control that worried Frank Milkovich.

Why hadn't he heard from the Gallaghers?

When a master and slave have been dating and a claim is imminent, the slave's parents usually ask for a meeting with the master's parents. Usually there are several meetings over lunch, dinner and the holidays as a way for the slave's parents to make sure the claim is the right one for their child and one their child truly wants.

"I don't get it. With as deeply submissive as he is, I would think they would want to put you, me, Carol, Finn and even Rachel under a microscope to make sure we're not abusive."

Mickey frowned and felt the familiar pang of anger and hurt that always accompanied thoughts of Monica Gallagher's treatment of Ian.

"Ian's parents don't care about him, Dad. They really don't."

"I'm sure that's not true. Yes, some parents are disappointed when they have a slave versus a master, but it's just like having a boy or girl. You can't control it. You just love them when they get here."

"Trust me dad, Monica Gallagher doesn't see it that way. She loves Ian's brother, Lip because he's a master, but with Ian...she spent years trying to force Ian to go against his nature and be more master than slave. According to Wes, Monica would scream at him and tell him he was weak and worthless and needed to dig deep to find strength and command. She taunted him mercilessly, trying to force him to stand up for himself and fight back. She thought it would make his less submissive. Of course, it didn't work.

Instead of fighting back, Ian fell deeper inside his submission. He never found the strength to fight back. Eventually she gave up, but the mental abuse left Ian submissive and fearful of all masters. She's a horrible master and a terrible mother."

Frank was undeterred. "Maybe I should reach out to them."

"Please don't."

"This is important, Mickey. I don't want you accused of not following the rules. We need to make sure they know you want to claim Ian. It's best if you have their permission."

Mickey knew his father was right, but the thought of dealing with Monica Gallagher worried him. He was hoping she would continue to care less about Ian and just allow Mickey to claim him.

Especially since Kash K. couldn't seem to leave Ian alone.

* * *

Like the Gallaghers, the K.s were an old money family. They ran in the same social circles and belonged to the same clubs. The K.s had spent the past five years in Europe, but returned to the states so Kash could graduate from an American high school.

Kash first spotted Ian during the summer at a cookout given by his parents to celebrate their return to Ohio. Ian was sitting alone in a gazebo in the corner of the huge backyard, writing in his music book.

"Whatcha writing, sexy?"

Ian looked up and then immediately lowered his eyes. His body tensed under Kash's lecherous stare.

"Answer me."

Ian kept his eyes focused on his book. "Just...um...song ideas."

"Really? That's actually interesting."

Kash sat down next to him. "Look at me."

Ian looked up. Kash licked his lips. "You're pretty."

He glanced at Ian's neck and then laid his hand on Ian's thigh.

"I see you're not claimed. When do you turn 18?"

Ian was nervous and scared. No, he wasn't claimed but he definitely wasn't available. He belonged to Mickey.

"August of next year."

"Next year, huh? I guess I can wait. You look like you might be worth it."

Ian wanted to run.

"But perhaps while we're waiting you can..."

"Kash, what are you doing?"

Both boys looked up to see Lip Gallagher standing there, his eyes fixed on Kash's hand stroking his little brother's thigh. Kash quickly snatched his hand away.

"Just having a chat. Ian was telling me how much I'm going to love Dalton."

Dalton? He was going to be at Dalton?

"Yeah. Whatever. You know the rules. Keep your hands off before you end up in trouble...again."

Kash frowned. How did Lip know about that? He stood up.

"Like I said, we were just chatting. See you later, Ian."

Lip looked at Ian. "Are you okay?" Ian nodded. Lip sat down beside him.

"Listen. I know you spend a lot of time with that Mickey guy, but you shouldn't get your hopes up about him claiming you."

Ian looked up, his eyes full of surprise. "Why not?"

"Let's face it. His family is not a part of our world. I don't think mom is going to let you get claimed by a mechanic's son."

"Mom doesn't care what happens to me."

"Yeah, that's true, but only to a point. You're still an Gallagher. What happens to you will reflect on the family, and with the K.s back in town, and you and Kash being about the same age..."

Ian gasped.

No. No. No. No.

Lip gave him a sympathetic look. "I could be wrong, but you should be prepared."

He stood up and walked back towards the party leaving Ian scared and shaking.

The moment he was home he called Mickey.

"Please...can I come see you...I need you..."

"Leave now. I'll be waiting."

Ian arrived on Mickey's doorstep at 10:00 pm. He was shaking and blinking back tears. Mickey pulled him inside and held him far longer than five seconds. Ian started babbling.

"You, Mickey. You. I want you to claim me. I only want you. I wanna be with you. Not him. I don't like him. I love you. You. Only submit to you."

Him?

"Shhh. It's okay, Ian. Tell me what happened."

Mickey worked hard to mask his anger as Ian told him about Kash's advances and Lip's theory. By the time he was done, Ian was crying and shaking. Mickey held him tight.

"Don't worry. If I have to I'll claim you without your parent's permission." Mickey knew his father would have a fit, but he didn't give a shit. Ian belonged to him. No way he was giving him up.

Ian spent the rest of the summer trying to avoid Kash at summer parties and social gatherings. Whenever he had the chance, Kash would corner Ian and scare the hell out of him with illegal touches and talk of claiming.

"Come on, Ian. It would be perfect. Think of how happy our parents would be. And trust me, I can make you happy. I'm quite good at...everything." Kash stood as close as possible to Ian without actually pressing his body into his, but it was enough to make Ian shake uncontrollably, his heart racing with fear as Kash whispered in his ear.

"I will fuck you so good, Ian. So fucking hard. I will fully dominate your submissive ass. You will be begging for my cock and if you're a good boy, I'll let you have it."

"Please...no...please...I...I don't want..."

"It's not about what you want. It's about what I want, and I want you."

Ian slid down the wall to the floor. He was trembling and tears were running down his face. He rested his chin on his knees and wrapped his arms around himself. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey.

Kash stepped back and laughed.

"Damn, you're so fucking submissive. It's super hot."

After these episodes Ian would flee to Mickey's house and Mickey would spend the rest of the evening erasing Ian's fears with illegal touches of his own.

"It's okay, Ian. I love you and I will claim you. You're mine. All mine. Don't worry."

By the end of the summer Mickey couldn't wait for school to start so he could confront Kash. He wasted no time finding him on the very first day of class.

Kash smiled his sexiest smile when he saw Mickey walking towards him in the cafeteria. Wow. First day of school and he was already attracting hot as hell boys.

"Well hello, gorgeous. I hope you're the welcoming committee."

Mickey held up both wrists. Kash's smile dimmed a bit when he saw Mickey wasn't a slave.

"Kash K.."

"Mickey Milkovich."

Kash's smile disappeared completely.

"Sorry, but my mother has already filled all the household staff positions in our home. However, if my dad's Jaguar breaks down I'll be sure to have him call your dad. Assuming he's qualified to work on such an expensive piece of machinery."

Mickey refused to take the bait. He had more pressing matters than getting into an insult match with this meerkat.

"Stay away from Ian. Don't talk to him, don't look at him, don't even breathe in his direction. And you touch him again and I'll have the Masters Ministry on your ass before your Axe body spray evaporates."

"Oh, so Ian belongs to you, does he? Funny. His parents never mentioned your name when I brought up claiming him."

Mickey steeled himself. "Ian doesn't want you."

"Like that matters. Look girlfriend, you're out of your league. Ian is way too good for you. If anyone's going to claim him it's me, so I suggest you fuck off and stop filling his head with promises you can't keep. Monica Gallagher will never give her son to a grease monkey's offspring. But I tell ya what? My maid has a son and I happen to know he's gay. How about I hook the two of you up? The two of you are from the same level of low class. You should have plenty to talk about."

Mickey stepped forward, his calm voice masking the fury raging inside him. "And how exactly do you know he's gay? You haven't been breaking the state rules have you? Screwing a slave you have no intentions of claiming? Better be careful, Kash. Wouldn't want you to get reported for abuse."

The color drained a bit from Kash's face. He stepped back. Mickey smirked in satisfaction.

"Stay away from Ian." He turned and left, entered the first bathroom he came to and promptly threw up his entire breakfast.

He was shaking with anger and a possessive rage he never knew he had.

Ian belonged to him. No one else. Him.

He would have to convince Monica Gallagher to let him have Ian. There was no way he was going to let Ian end up with that asshole.

Mickey splashed cold water on his face and dried off with a paper towel. He stared at his reflection.

Fuck Monica Gallagher.

He would claim Ian without her permission. His father wouldn't approve, but so what? He would just have to get over it.

He was claiming Ian and no one was going to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A month later, Ian was sitting on a couch wishing he had the courage to bolt for the door. His fear had such a hold on his mind that he couldn't conjure up a song to help him feel better.

Dinner at the Ks.

Monica had walked into his room that morning, without knocking, to announce that the entire family, including Lip and his slave Karen, would be going to the Ks for dinner that evening. Ian had been in the middle of jerking himself off fast and hard to the remnants of a dream he'd had the night before. Mickey was standing over him, naked and beautiful. His pale skin glowing with a silky sheen, his command covering Ian, heavy and warm like rays of sun. Ian was naked on his knees, wrists and ankles bound by leather straps. A heavy iron collar around his neck with a leash held by Mickey. Mickey's cock was thick, heavy and hard, and Ian was drooling. He wanted it in his mouth so bad. And then up his ass.

 _"Where are your eyes, Ian?" Ian quickly shifted his gaze from Mickey's beautiful cock down to the floor._

 _"Do you see something you want, my love?"_

 _"Yes sir."_

 _"What do you want?"_

 _"Your cock, sir."_

 _"Where would you like it?"_

 _"Please...in my mouth, sir."_

 _Mickey reached down and ran his fingers through Ian's hair. He tightened his grip on the chain and pulled Ian's head back._

 _"You may pleasure me."_

 _Ian opened his mouth and leaned forward..._

"Tonight we're having dinner at the Ks, so don't disappear. As a matter of fact, why don't you stay home today so I'm not forced to hunt you down when it's time to go? We leave at 6:00 pm."

Ian turned crimson as he quickly grabbed at the sheets to cover himself. If Monica noticed what he was doing, she didn't mention it.

"Did you hear me? Don't go running off today. Lip and Karen will be here at 4:00 pm."

"Yes ma'am."

Monica stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Ian exhaled and thought about starting again when his mother's words registered with him.

Dinner at the Ks.

Kash.

Ian wasn't in the mood anymore. He reached over and grabbed his phone to call Mickey.

Mickey forced himself to keep his voice calm and steady. He knew Ian needed him calm. If he freaked out, Ian would freak out.

"It's probably just dinner, Ian. Nothing to worry about. Just try to stay close to your parents and Lip."

"But what if this dinner is to discuss Kash claiming me?"

Mickey closed his eyes and swallowed. "I'm sure it's just dinner." God, please let it be just dinner.

"You don't know that, Mickey. What if it isn't? What if they decide tonight that I'm going to be with Kash. Oh, God."

Ian's panicked voice broke causing Mickey's heart to break. He took a deep breath and summoned his command.

"Ian, I want you to calm down. No matter what happens tonight, I'll find a way to claim you. I promise."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Ian relaxed. Mickey would make everything okay. Everything would be fine.

"I love you, Mickey."

"I know. I love you too. Don't worry."

Mickey hung up.

"How could you do that?"

Mickey turned around to see his father standing there, his face flush with anger.

"Do what?"

"Promise something like that. Mickey...you can't make that type of promise to a slave. There's no guarantee that you will be allowed to claim Ian."

"I can claim whomever I want, even if the parents disagree. Those are the rules."

Frank shook his head. "Come on, Mickey. You're not that naïve. People like the Gallaghers play by a different set of rules."

"I don't care about their stupid money. Ian wants to be with me and I want him. I'm claiming him."

Frank's heart broke just a little as he stared at Mickey. Instead of the 17 year old standing before him, Frank was seeing Mickey age 10. Arms folded in defiance, a stubborn look upon his face as he refused to wear the navy blue winter coat Frank had bought for him. He wanted pink and he didn't care if pink was only in the girls section. The pink coats were pretty. The blue was ugly. The next day Frank returned the navy coat and Mickey wore his pink coat proudly the entire winter, oblivious to the stares of strangers.

But Ian wasn't a coat. He was a sub slave, and a highly sensitive, submissive one at that. Without meaning to, Mickey was screwing with Ian's head. If things didn't work out, the damage could leave scars.

"Look kiddo. I know you love him. I know you want him, but you have to be careful. What happens if he doesn't get claimed by you?" Frank put his hand up to stop Mickey's protest. "I know, I know. You're determined to claim him, but let's just pretend it doesn't work out because the Gallaghers have other plans. Do you know what will happen to Ian? The mental anguish he will suffer by not being claimed by the one he's submitted to in his own mind? Sure he'll submit to another master because it's in his nature, but there will be this...missing piece. Confusion that will leave him disoriented about the claim. And what if that master isn't willing to be patient? You're setting Ian up for a lot of pain if things don't work out."

Mickey sat down heavily on the couch and placed his hand over his mouth.

Shit.

That was the last thing he wanted to do.

But he couldn't deny his feelings. His desires. Ian was more than a want. He was a need.

What if Ian was right about tonight? What if plans were made and deals signed? Mickey shook his head slowly.

"Dad...I can't...I can't lose him...I can't..."

Frank nodded. "I know. We'll try to work it out. I promise. We'll try to work it out."

* * *

Ian dug his nails into the couch cushion as Kash appeared in the doorway of the living room. He simply stood there, a smug smirk on his face. He blew Ian a kiss. Ian felt like vomiting.

One of the servants appeared behind Kash.

"Dinner is served."

Ian stood up slowly hoping Kash would head to the dining room ahead of him, but Kash remained in the doorway.

"Evening, Ian. You're looking quite fetching."

Ian said nothing. Kash waited until Ian squeezed by him to follow behind.

"Damn. Can't wait to get my dick up that ass."

Ian almost fell. Kash laughed. When they reached the dining room, Lip's slave, Karen beckoned to Ian.

"Sit by me."

Kash was about to take the chair on the other side of Ian, when Lip smoothly slid in. He smiled sweetly at Kash.

"Sorry."

Kash scowled and sat at the end of the table.

Lip looked at Ian. "You're welcome."

"Thank you."

Lip and Ian had a strange relationship.

Due to their age difference and the fact that Lip was the favored master son, they weren't close, but they weren't enemies either. Growing up Lip mostly ignored Ian, following the example set by their mother. Upon graduating high school he claimed Karen and headed off to college. After he graduated, Monica sent him to Michigan to run a manufacturing company she had purchased. He traveled to Ohio often to visit and report to his mother. He still didn't pay much attention to Ian, but he was concerned about his claiming. One of Karen's friends was currently trapped in a miserable, parent arranged claim. Lip was seeing first hand the unhappiness it caused. He didn't want to see Ian in the same situation.

Ian spent most of dinner talking to Karen. Karen was very sweet and had always shown Ian kindness and affection. By the end of dinner Ian was feeling more relaxed.

Unfortunately, the feeling didn't last.

Everyone moved out to the enclosed deck for dessert and drinks. Ian stuck close to Karen, sitting next to her on the loveseat. Lip sat in a chair next to them while the parents sat across from them. Kash lounged in the doorway. There were a few moments of silence while everyone focused on dessert, a delicious three layer, vanilla cream cake.

Anna K broke the silence. "So, Monica...have you given any thought to Ian's claim?"

Ian froze. Kash smiled, smug and satisfied.

Monica shook her head. "No, not really."

"You know...maybe Ian would be good for Kash. Kash needs someone to calm him down. Stabilize him."

Ian slowly sat his cake plate on the table. His hands were shaking.

Lip spoke up. "Don't you think Ian should have a say in who claims him?"

Monica snorted. "Please. He'd submit to a dog if it wagged its tail hard enough. These things have to be directed."

Kash laughed. Lip shot him a look.

"In that case, I suppose Kash has half a chance. From what I've heard, he is quite the dog. A bitch in heat."

Ian's eyes widened in surprise. Monica looked at Lip in horror while Kash glared at him. Anna turned red with embarrassment.

"That was a youthful indiscretion. Kash knows better now."

Michael Smyth spoke up. "That's right. Kash has matured. He's ready for the responsibility of a claim. Give it some thought, Monica. It could be mutually beneficial for both our families."

Monica looked at Ian as if seeing him for the first time. She slowly nodded. "Yes, perhaps we should discuss this further."

Kash had been watching Ian closely during their parents exchange. Ian was staring at the ground, his tongue running over his lips several times as he tried to find the strength to speak. Kash's mind filled with thoughts of all the places he wanted Ian's tongue. Ian felt Kash's heated glare and slowly looked up. Something about the lustful, menacing look in his eyes frightened Ian into finding his voice. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No."

Monica looked at him. "What?"

"No. I-I-I don't want him. I don't like him."

Kash looked slightly embarrassed. "That's because you don't know me. We should spend more time together."

Anna K smiled and nodded vigorously. "Yes, what a wonderful idea! I'm sure that if the two of you spent some time together..."

Lip interrupted. "Given Kash's past, I don't think it would be safe for Ian to spend time with him. I don't think any of us wanna see Ian get rap..."

"Lip!" Monica screeched. "What an awful thing to say! What's wrong with you?"

"Just looking out for my little brother."

Kash's face was beet red with anger and embarrassment. "I didn't rape anyone! It was consensual!"

"How can sex with an unclaimed, under 18 slave be consensual?"

"I didn't rape anyone!"

Michael K glared at Lip. "Of course you didn't rape anyone. It was all a misunderstanding. Monica, how did your acquisition of General Manufacturing Services go?"

Michael's tone was clear. The conversation was over. Monica gladly dove into the details of her latest business conquest. Kash shot Ian and Lip a final evil look before disappearing.

Ian exhaled while Karen rubbed his back. "It'll be okay, Ian."

Ian turned to Lip, his eyes relieved and grateful.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"No problem."

"Lip...why are you helping me? I mean...I don't know...you're usually on mom's side."

Lip sighed. "Let's just say that I wanna see you happy or miserable. I've seen what life's like for unhappy slaves trapped in claims they never wanted or that have gone bad. I want something better for you. I see the positive affect Mickey has on you. It's a good thing. I don't want you to lose it."

Ian nodded. Yes, Mickey was good for him. Mickey was great for him. Mickey was helping him get stronger, less submissive around other masters. Ian knew it wasn't just for his benefit. Mickey was possessive and jealous. He didn't want Ian submitting to other masters. He only wanted Ian to submit to him.

To Ian's relief, Monica quickly forgot about Kash claiming him. A competitor made a major move into one of her key business areas. The development consumed all of her time and energy. Ian went out of his way to stay out of sight and out of mind.

Kash eye fucked Ian every chance he had, but he kept his distance which made Mickey nervous instead of happy. Kash's smile was too smug and knowing, as if he had a secret. Would Monica make arrangements for Ian's claim without telling him? It was a thought that kept Mickey up at night.

Frank was up at night as well.

The more he watched Mickey and Ian interact, the more he worried about Mickey's claim promise. Both boys were in deep. Too deep for the Gallaghers and Milkovichs to have never met.

Frank decided it was time to fix that.

* * *

"I'm sorry, what company did you say you're with?"

"Milkovich Tire & Lube."

Monica frowned. How the hell had this man in a cheap suit gotten an appointment with her? She would fire Sara the moment this was over.

"What do you want?"

"I'm here to talk about your son, Ian. I'm Mickey's father."

Monica's expression turned bored. "So?"

Frank frowned. "Well, I'm sure you know Mickey and Ian have been dating for almost a year and a half. Mickey would like to claim your son."

"Out of the question."

"Why?"

"No offense, Mr...Handel? But Ian is an Gallagher. He comes from a family of a certain class, breeding and social standing. It would not be appropriate for him to be claimed by..."

"Watch yourself," Frank growled.

"... someone from a different social class."

"You're a business woman. I'm a businessman and a future US Congressman. We're not that different. "

"A congressman? I thought you were a mechanic?"

"I'm running for congress this year. I'm ahead in the polls by 70%."

"Congress?"

"Yes."

"United States Congress?"

"Is there any other?"

Monica sat back in her chair and started calculating.

Having a politician in her debt would be useful. There were some tax breaks she wanted to see pass in preparation for a major acquisition and expansion deal she was working.

She could smooth things over with the Ks. They would understand. Especially if she shared the influence.

She smiled at Frank and pushed a button on her phone. "Sara, hold my calls."

* * *

"You did what?"

"Mickey, calm down."

"How could you? I didn't think you wanted to be that kind of politician!"

"Come on, kiddo! You know me better than that! I didn't agree to anything I wasn't already on board with! Monica and I are both business owners. We have more in common than you think."

"I was going to handle it!"

"How? By claiming Ian without his parent's permission? No. That's not how you want to stake a claim. Especially when dealing with someone as intensely submissive as Ian and a family like the Gallaghers. It could come back to haunt you. This way you get to do it right."

"And you get to be in Monica Gallagher's back pocket! And what happens if you don't win the election?"

Frank looked visibly hurt. "Since when did you start thinking so little of your old man?"

Mickey felt like shit. He should give his father some credit, especially since he was just trying to help him. His father was an honest man. He wouldn't agree to something that wouldn't sit right with his conscience. And he was definitely going to win.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want you beholden to anyone on my behalf. Especially Monica Gallagher."

"I promise you that's not how it went down. I love you and I would do anything for you, but I have limits. Limits I'm sure you want me to have. Like, I promise not to show up unannounced in New York next year just because I miss you and want to make sure you and Ian are doing okay."

Mickey smiled. "Yes, please limit that activity."

"Okay. But I won't limit my need to remind you of the rules. Despite things being squared with his parents, you still need to follow the state guidelines regarding physical interactions before he's claimed."

Mickey nodded vigorously and prayed his guilt didn't show. He hadn't broken any rules. Not technically.

Not really.

Sure he held Ian far longer than five seconds...

And, yes they laid on Mickey's bed next to each other...

Okay...so...maybe Mickey occasionally rubbed Ian's cock through his pants, but only to make Ian feel better after Kash attacks. The little moans and sighs of relaxation proved it was good for Ian. He never allowed Ian to touch him, no matter how desperately Ian stared at him, and despite how desperately he wanted Ian to touch him. No matter how many dreams he suffered through. Dreams of Ian on his knees...in full submission...lips parted...asking Mickey to allow him to service...

"Mickey!"

Mickey blinked and turned crimson.

Frank sighed. "Perhaps we should review chapter 8 again."

* * *

To say Kash was pissed would be an understatement.

Kash was used to getting his way and he did not like being passed over for a gayface, low class, twink like Mickey Milkovich. He especially didn't like seeing Mickey walk around Dalton holding Ian's hand with a smug smile of victory on his face.

He was further incensed when his parents refused to do anything about it. Yes, they were disappointed. They liked the idea of having a claim connection between the K and Gallagher families, but Monica had explained things to their satisfaction and they respected her decision. Kash would just have to move on. Kash was livid.

He always got his way.

Always.

Ian should understand that.

He cornered him in the music room.

Ian was sitting at the piano working on an arrangement. He was deep in thought, playing notes in both his head and on the piano. He'd always been good at music, but thanks to Mickey it was as if a part of his brain he couldn't access before had suddenly opened up. In between dreams of serving Mickey, he dreamed of musical notes dancing across the page, arranging themselves in perfect harmonies and rhythms.

"Hello Ian."

Ian was so startled and frightened he fell off the piano bench. Kash laughed.

"Aw, poor baby. Are you okay? Did you bruise anything? Wouldn't want you to bruise that beautiful ass."

Ian scrambled backwards towards the wall. He tried to stand up.

"Stay down."

Ian froze.

Kash laughed. "Your submissiveness is fucking delicious."

He stood over him. "Up on your knees."

Ian immediately obeyed.

Kash grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Ian was shaking and tears were pooling in his eyes.

"I don't know what kind of deal you're stupid whore mother made with Milkovich's dad, but mark my words. This. Isn't. Over."

Ian cried out as Kash pulled him to his feet by his hair. He slammed him into the wall and pressed his body against his. Tears rolled down Ian's face as he felt Kash's erection against his thigh.

"Pl-please...please don't."

Kash pressed harder. "How dare you deny me. You are a fucking slave. One of the most submissive bitches ever born. You don't deny me. Just you wait. I will claim your ass."

"Kash!"

Kash turned around. His face met Wes's first.

"You asshole!" Wes swung again connecting with Kash's nose.

They swung and lunged at each other before falling down, wrestling around the floor of the music room, banging into tables and knocking over chairs. They rolled through the doors out into the hall. A crowd gathered around as they scrambled to their feet and attacked each other again. Mickey came running up.

"What's going on? What happened?" The boy next to him shrugged.

Mickey watched in shock as Wes slammed Kash into a row of lockers and started wailing on him with punch after punch.

Wes was a very prim and proper kind of guy. He liked rules, order, tradition and appropriateness. Punching someone out, even an asshole like Kash, was not appropriate.

Unless...

"Ian!"

Mickey frantically searched the crowd. "Ian!"

His eyes landed on the wide open doors of the music room.

"Ian!"

Nothing.

"Ian? It's Mickey. It's okay. Please answer me."

There was a small sob from the corner.

Ian was curled into a tight ball in the corner behind a chair. Mickey dropped to his knees and gathered him in his arms.

"You're okay, Ian. I'm here. It's okay." Ian clung to him, burying his face in his shoulder. "It's okay. I love you. I love you and I'll take care of you. I promise."

"He...he...he said...he said..."

"Ignore what he said. It means nothing. I have your mother's permission. I will claim you on your 18th birthday. I will claim you and you will be my slave. Mine. Not his. Mine."

"Y-yours."

"Mine."

Neither West nor Kash were expelled. The principal found it hard to believe that a perfect, model student like Wes would start a fight unless there was a really, really good reason. He didn't buy Kash's story of Wes attacking him simply for wandering into the music room. The principal didn't like Kash, so as far as he was concerned the smarmy brat had it coming. He accepted the K Foundation's sudden and very large donation to the school library and dropped the entire thing.

Once Mickey learned exactly what Kash did to Ian, he wanted to report him to the Masters Ministry. Frank advised against it.

"The Gallaghers and Ks are friends. You cause trouble for the Ks and Monica might change her mind. We need to be careful until you've officially claimed Ian."

Mickey burned at the thought of Kash getting away with pressing his dick against Ian. That was considered a threat to a slave, but he knew his father was right. He didn't want to do anything that might put his claim permission in danger.

* * *

The months leading up to Mickey's birthday flew by. Kash backed off with the exception of shooting dirty looks at Mickey. He ignored Ian completely.

As Mickey's birthday approached, Frank grew more and more insistent that Mickey review chapter 8 of the state rules regarding interactions between masters and unclaimed slaves. Especially the section on sexual relations. Mickey couldn't believe his dad was still harping about this. He was sure he could recite the entire chapter by heart. One night his frustration hit a boiling point.

"Dad! Enough! Stop nagging me!"

"Watch your tone, Mickey."

"I'm sorry, but seriously! You are driving me crazy!"

"Tone, Mickey."

Mickey glared at him. Frank sat down and gestured for Mickey to do the same.

"Listen, I know I'm getting on your nerves, but you don't understand what's about to happen to you. Things are about to change. You are about to change. You need to be ready for what's about to happen."

"I already know what's about to happen. My sex drive is going to sky rocket to another level, as if that's possible. Dad, I promise you. I've read the rules. I know the rules. I won't let him touch me. I don't wanna do anything that might make me lose him. I promise you. I am the definition of self-control."

Frank sighed. "Let's hope you stay that way."

The night before his birthday Mickey stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't feel any different. He didn't look any different. He didn't doubt his father's words or his health book, but he didn't feel like anything major was about to happen. Yes, he still wanted to jump Ian, and yes Ian's eyes begged him to, but that wasn't anything new.

As he settled in bed and closed his eyes, Mickey decided he would be fine. His father was just being overly cautious. And overreacting.

He was asleep 15 seconds after closing his eyes.

45 seconds later transformation began.

The master core of Mickey's brain began opening, shifting and stretching. Veins broken and reconnected. Mickey's blood thickened, darkened and grew a few degrees warmer. His cock lengthened and widened. His balls enlarged slightly and grew heavier. His arm and leg muscles tightened and strengthened. By morning the transformation was complete.

Mickey woke up feeling unusually restful. He didn't notice anything as he showered and brushed his teeth. He stared at his cock for a few minutes, his head cocked to the side. Maybe? No. Just his imagination, or maybe wishful thinking. He dressed and went downstairs.

After birthday wishes from his dad, Finn and Carol, and a bowl of fruit and yogurt, Mickey grabbed his bag.

"I'm off. I'll see you later."

Frank placed his hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes.

"Promise me you'll be careful today. Especially around Ian."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "I promise."

"I mean it, Mickey."

"So do I. I promise to be careful."

"Have a strong day."

Mickey made a face and laughed. Seriously? A strong day?

Like every morning, Mickey went to his locker first and then went to wait by Ian's. He noticed Kash standing a few feet away, arms folded, staring at him with a smirk on his face. Mickey shot him a nasty look and started scrolling through happy birthday texts on his phone.

"Hi. Happy birthday."

Mickey looked up into Ian's eyes and froze.

He swayed a little as his heart raced and it was suddenly harder to breathe. He always wanted Ian, but now the feeling was stronger and more intense than ever before. It overrode his sense of control and discipline. He wanted this gorgeous boy to serve him. To suck his cock until it was drained. Yes. Excellent idea. His cock definitely belonged in this boy's beautiful mouth. Now.

Mickey stepped closer to Ian, his erection pressing against his pants, demanding freedom. Mickey's fingers moved to his zipper.

Ian's eyes widened and filled with submission as he heard Mickey's zipper being lowered. He started to slowly sink to the floor.

"Happy birthday!"

Wes and David appeared on either side of Ian, each placing a hand under his arm to keep him standing. Mickey blinked and tried to remember who they were. David glanced at Mickey's pants and grinned.

"Yep. Definitely his 18th birthday."

He tugged at Ian's arm. "Come on. As much fun as it would be to see the two of you put on a gay porn show for all of us, we have class and we don't want Mickey to get in trouble. You're with me today. Wes will take care of the birthday boy."

Wes started dragging Mickey away from Ian. Mickey roared.

"No! Stop! Get off me!" He tried to wrench himself away from Wes, but Wes tightened his grip on Mickey's arm and kept dragging him. "Sorry, Mickey. You'll thank me later."

Ian was whining loudly as David dragged him down the hall. The whining struck at Mickey's core and set off a fierce protective reaction within him. Wes was completely prepared for the swing Mickey threw his way. He ducked effortlessly. He pushed Mickey into the first bathroom they reached and pushed him towards the stalls.

"Go on. The first jerk is the best."

Mickey didn't protest. He ran into the stall, pulled down his pants and proceeded to jerk himself off loudly, screaming Ian's name when he came.

He did it again five minutes later.

And once more ten minutes later.

When he finally emerged from the stall he felt relaxed and his mind clear. Wes, who had stepped outside to keep everyone else out, poked his head in.

"Done?"

Mickey nodded without a hint of embarrassment.

Wes waited for him as he scrubbed his hands.

"How did you know?"

"This is an all boys school. The real question is how did you not?"

"Is it like this for everyone?"

"No. Just those who are 100% certain about their claim. To be honest, I'm a little surprised the Gallaghers sent Ian to school today. Usually in a case like yours where the claim is a forgone conclusion, the parents keep the slave at home on the master's 18th birthday and for the first few days afterward just in case the master can't keep it together. Then again, I've learned not to expect much from the Gallaghers when it comes to Ian."

Mickey felt guilty about giving his dad a hard time. His dad probably knew the Gallaghers wouldn't take steps to protect Ian, and if Mickey lost control and gave in to the sexual desire choking him...

Shit.

Kash would make sure the Masters Ministry knew about it before Mickey had time to pull out.

Mickey looked at Wes with renewed appreciation.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry for taking a swing at you. I've never done that before, to anyone. Even people who deserved it. I'm really sorry."

Wes smiled. "No problem. Come on. We're super late to class, but just tell the teacher it's your birthday. This is the one day you won't get in trouble for being late."

By the end of the day Mickey was miserable. He'd jerked off three more times before giving in to the fact that he would not be able to get rid of this new, desperate, intense, purely sexual hunger for Ian. It gnawed at him like a deep, throbbing ache and left him feeling starved.

He arrived home to find his dad pacing in the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Hi." Frank searched Mickey's face for clues. Mickey sat down at the table.

"Did everything go okay?"

Mickey nodded. "Yes. I plan to name my first child Wesley David Milkovich."

"So they didn't keep him home?"

"No."

Frank frowned and shook his head. "Bastards. I thought they might considering how submissive he is. Your grandfather didn't let me near your mother for a month."

"Dad...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a brat about studying chapter 8 and all your warnings. I get it now."

"It's okay kiddo. Rite of passage. You got through your first day without incident. I'm proud of you. Only three more months to go."

Three more months.

Three. More. Months.

Mickey excused himself.

By the time he went to bed his wrist was sore.

Along with his dick.

* * *

Mickey was relieved to find that while the intense feelings didn't lessen, his resolve not to give in grew stronger, motivated in part by Kash's constant lurking. Mickey was sure Kash had the Masters Ministry on speed dial just waiting for him to screw up. Mickey was determined not to break. Instead he poured his energy into planning for life after high school.

After much debate and soul searching, Mickey decided Ian should attend Tisch School of the Arts while he attended the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. It wouldn't be easy. While unclaimed slaves often went to college, schools were primarily attended by masters. Mickey was nervous about Ian attending classes by himself, but he knew Ian was passionate about writing music and Tisch had a great musical theatre writing program. Mickey convinced himself that Ian would be okay. He would be claimed by then and wearing a collar telling the world he belonged to Mickey Milkovich. Claimed slaves were off limits and masters caught harassing or dominating a claimed slave could be sued, jailed or worse. Ian should be safe.

Ian wasn't so sure.

"I'll be away from you all day."

"You'll be with me every night. We'll be living together, remember?"

"What if someone tries to get me or take me?" Kash's words still reverberated in his head. _Just you wait. I will claim your ass._

Mickey placed his hands on either side of Ian's face. "You will be claimed, Ian. You will be wearing a collar plus two bracelets just to make sure there's no mistaking your status. Everyone will know I own you."

Ian got that submissive, pleading look in his eyes that drove Mickey to the edge.

"You will own me."

"Yes, I will."

"I will serve you."

"Yes, you will."

Ian started sinking to the floor.

"Owned by you. I can't wait to be owned by you."

Mickey closed his eyes. He should stop him. He had to stop him. Ian wasn't his to have. Not yet.

Ian pressed his face against Mickey's crotch.

"I can't wait to serve you."

Mickey balled his hands into two tight fists.

Control. Discipline. Mastery.

Shit.

It would be so easy. All he had to do was unzip his pants. Ian would do the rest and no one would know. Did it really matter? Ian would be his in another month and a half.

Mickey looked down. Ian was looking up at him. His eyes were shining with love, his lips slightly parted. Mickey took a deep breath.

"Up Ian."

Ian immediately rose to his feet. He sadly lowered his eyes to the floor. Mickey cupped his chin and raised his head.

"Look at me. I want you. Bad. But we have to wait until after the claim. I don't wanna do anything to screw things up."

Ian nodded. He knew the rules. Didn't mean he didn't want Mickey's dick in his mouth.

Mickey wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

"Soon, Ian. Soon I will claim you, and then..."

He held him tighter and whispered in his ear.

"We'll fuck till we fall apart."

* * *

Mickey was sure graduation day was the second best day of his life. The first would be the day he claimed Ian. He was thrilled to have high school over and done with and looked forward to claiming Ian and getting the hell out of Lima.

Over the summer they attended several claiming ceremonies. Most were simple, but some were extremely elaborate like Rachel and Finn's. Rachel's dads went all out, renting a hall for the ceremony, hiring musicians, and having a catered celebration afterward. Rachel sang five songs proclaiming her love for Finn and gave a long claiming speech. Mickey, Ian and Carol looked on with amusement while Frank rolled his eyes. Mickey assured his dad that he wanted nothing like the spectacle they were witnessing. As a matter of fact, he didn't want a celebration at all. He wanted a quiet, traditional, private ceremony in their backyard, attended by his family, Ian's family if they chose to attend, and perhaps Wes and Mercedes. They would have dinner afterward and he and Ian would leave for New York the next morning. Frank was surprised.

"What about your Night of Confirmation? Don't you want to spend it somewhere special?"

Mickey nodded. "I booked a suite at a bed and breakfast right outside Cleveland. We'll spend the night there and head to New York in the morning."

"Given the elaborate weddings you planned for your power rangers, I assumed you would want a big show."

Mickey shook his head. "No. I just want Ian."

Mickey had other reasons for keeping things low key. He didn't want to deal with the Gallaghers. The last thing he wanted was for Monica to decide she wanted to host a reception to show off her relationship with a US Congressman. That would mean inviting the Ks and that meant Kash. So far Monica had stayed completely uninterested in the upcoming claim. Mickey had never stepped foot inside the Gallagher home or even laid eyes on the family. He was content to keep it that way.

* * *

The morning of Ian's 18th birthday, Mickey sat in bed and looked around his mostly empty room. He and Ian's things had been packed and shipped to their New York apartment a week earlier. His outfit for the claiming ceremony was hanging in his closet along with past season fashion he didn't need to take with him.

He slid off the bed and sat down at his vanity. He opened the bottom drawer and took out a silver box. Inside was the collar and bracelets Mickey would place on Ian identifying him as a claimed slave. They were a silver lattice design Mickey had spent hours designing and re-drawing until it was perfect. He took the design to Dawson's, a jeweler in Columbus known for excellent craftsmanship. Mickey's original design included diamonds, but was far too expensive. He barely had enough money saved to afford the custom design, but he was determined to give Ian something original. Most masters simply chose from the hundreds of options on display in jewelry stores and at the mall. Mickey wanted something special and unique. Something one of a kind. Like Ian.

As he stared at the collar and bracelets the enormity of the day hit him. After today he would be a full Dom Master. Sub slave Ian's entire life, safety and well-being would be his responsibility. Once he was claimed, Ian would rely on Mickey for everything. He would never make a decision on his own again. He would be under Mickey's complete control and command. The thought simultaneously warmed Mickey's heart, and caused a sexual stirring deep inside his core. He was fully erect, but could not relieve himself. Masters were not allowed to masturbate on Claiming Day. Instead he had to save all of his sexual energy and needs for Ian to fulfill that night in confirmation of the claim.

I&M&M&I

Ian sat in his empty room and wished it were time to leave for Mickey's. He was nervous, excited, scared and happy. The happiest he'd been in his entire life. He had never wanted something as badly as he wanted to be claimed by Mickey. Today he would move from his mother's house to his master's house, and Mickey would become the dominant force in his life. His owner. His master. His everything. He couldn't wait.

Especially for that night.

That night they would confirm the claim. Ian would finally be allowed to drop to his knees, open his mouth and suck Mickey's cock dry. And then they would make love until it hurt. Ian closed his eyes and licked his lips. Just a few more hours.

At 9:45 am he grabbed his bag and walked downstairs. His parents were eating breakfast on the deck. He wanted to just leave, but he figured he should say goodbye. He quietly walked outside, his eyes on the ground.

Monica looked up from her phone. "Yes?"

"Today's my birthday."

"Oh. Why yes it is. Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday, Ian." His father gave him a genuine smile.

"I assume Mickey is claiming you today?"

"Yes."

"Well, good luck. I'm sure you'll love New York. Fabulous city."

Ian stood there for another minute before leaving.

Monica watched him leave.

Her part of the deal was complete.

Frank Milkovich had better keep his word.

* * *

Frank, Carol, Finn, Rachel, Mercedes, Wes, Lip and Karen stood in a circle in the backyard of the Milkovich home. Ian was surprised, but pleased when Lip called to tell him that he and Karen would like to attend the claiming ceremony. He was glad to have someone from his family present.

Ian walked from the backdoor of the house to the middle of the circle. He kneeled, eyes cast down to the ground and waited. A moment later Mickey appeared. He walked to the middle of the circle and stood over Ian. To be completely safe and within the rules, Mickey elected to use the standard state language for the ceremony.

"Look up at me."

Ian looked up. His heart skipped a beat and he trembled as he stared into Mickey's eyes. They were a deeper blue, and while Mickey's words told a story of dominance, his eyes told the story that really mattered.

Love.

"I, Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich, being born of the master line and as such endowed with the privileges of masterhood, do hereby claim you, Ian Victor Gallagher, as my slave. I promise to dominate you in the way my nature demands and your nature craves. I promise to care for and protect you with my life. You are mine to love, cherish, use and punish as I see fit. You will accept this claim."

"Master, I, Ian Victor Gallagher, submit myself to you as your obedient slave. I will honor, obey and serve you in complete and total submission as is my duty and sole purpose in life. Your needs and desires are my only concern. It is in service to you that I find joy, peace and happiness. My body belongs to you to use as you wish. I submit to you and no other. I accept your claim."

Frank stepped forward with a tray holding the collar and bracelets. Mickey picked up the collar.

"This collar is a symbol of your enslavement to me. May all who see it know that you are claimed by me, and respect this claim as I respect the claims of others."

As Mickey placed the collar around his neck, Ian's body relaxed as years of tension, stress and the desperate desire to be captured and claimed melted away.

Mickey picked up the bracelets.

"Along with the collar, these bracelets are a symbol of my responsibility to love, protect, dominate and rule over you as your master. May they be a constant reminder to you and all others that you are the claimed slave of Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich."

Mickey locked a bracelet around each of Ian's wrists. Ian closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to the ground. Mickey looked down at him and felt a sudden surge of dominance race through his body. He was glad he decided to wear a light, three-quarter length jacket despite the hot August weather. It hid the throbbing erection pushing against his pants.

"Stand."

Ian slowly rose to his feet. Mickey took both of his hands in his.

"I completely claim you as mine."

"I fully submit to you."

Mickey leaned forward and kissed him. Their first deep, wet, tongue-filled kiss. Ian moaned as Mickey urgently roamed his mouth, determined to memorize the taste. He pulled back for a moment only to throw his arms around Ian's neck and bring their mouths back together. They were oblivious to the clapping and cheers of their family and friends. All they knew was each other.

Mickey pulled back and whispered in Ian's ear.

"I'll never let you go."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Mickey didn't fully relax and breathe until they were in the rental car, on their way to Cleveland. All during dinner he kept waiting for Monica Gallagher to burst in, announcing she'd changed her mind with Kash standing by her side to take Ian away. He knew she couldn't really do that, but he was still nervous. He needed to get them the hell out of Ohio.

To calm his nerves, Mickey retrieved a leash from his bag and attached it to Ian's wrist. He slipped the other end on to his wrist and locked it, tying them together. He knew he was being a bit paranoid and over the top considering they'd just had their claiming ceremony, but he didn't care. It made him feel better. Ian looked at the leash attached to his wrist and then at Mickey. The joy and complete acceptance in his eyes was enough for Mickey to dismiss any qualms he had about what everyone would think.

No one commented or even seemed to notice. They were too busy eating, drinking and being happy. A claim between a master and slave who truly loved one another was cause for celebration. Carol prepared a lovely spread for everyone to enjoy, and despite Mickey's wish for a quiet celebration with just his family, the doorbell rang constantly as friends stopped by to offer their congratulations and to wish Ian a happy birthday. Soon the house was filled with laughter and singing as the Warblers and New Directions went back and forth, singing songs and arguing over who sounded better. As the impromptu party progressed, Mickey felt safe enough in the cocoon of love and laughter to remove Ian's leash allowing him to take center stage one last time as the lead soloist for the Warblers. As he watched him perform, he was reminded of the first time he saw him.

And now Ian belonged to him.

Mickey had never experienced the type of joy he felt in that moment. Pure, unadulterated happiness didn't adequately describe the feeling.

"Wow. I love seeing that smile on your face, kiddo. Seeing you this happy is better for my heart than any medication or diet on earth."

Mickey smiled at his dad. "I still expect you to stick to your diet. And just how many pieces of cake have you had?"

Frank waved away his question. "I'm allowed to celebrate my son becoming a full Dom Master. I'm proud of you, Mickey."

"It wouldn't have gone so smoothly without your help. Thanks dad."

Frank ignored the uneasy feeling in his stomach. "No problem. I'd do anything to see you smile like this."

They stood there for a few minutes listening to Rachel sing her fourth solo of the day.

"Uh, Mickey...about tonight..."

Mickey's eyebrows rose as he looked at his father. A sex talk? Now?

"Yes?"

Frank looked a bit uncomfortable. "Um...I don't necessarily understand the...mechanics of what you and Ian will do, but I do understand the importance of tonight for a slave. My only advice for you is to be very, very clear. Ian wants to serve you, wants to submit to you. He needs to. He craves your command over him. It's your job to make sure he understands what you want and expect and to be very clear and firm. He can't just know you are his master. He must feel you are his master, and that feeling comes from the demands you make of him. Show no mercy. He doesn't want it, or need it."

Mickey was moved by his father's words and the change in his demeanor. As he spoke, Frank fell into full dominate master mode. It was a posture Mickey only saw him use with Carol. As if she sensed the change, Carol suddenly appeared next to him. Frank took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for all your work today. Everything is great." Carol beamed and leaned into Frank's body. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close.

Mickey felt a slight pang of sadness as he thought about his mother. He wished she could have met Ian. She would have loved him.

"Yes, thanks Carol. I really appreciate it." Mickey hugged them both and turned to watch Ian sing with Rachel.

After another hour or so, people began to leave. Lip tapped Mickey on the shoulder. "Hey, can I talk to you privately for a minute?"

Mickey checked on Ian's location. He was in the living room with Wes.

"I'm going to talk to your brother. Don't leave the living room. Stay with Wes."

Ian nodded. "Yes master."

Mickey felt slightly choked for a moment.

Master.

He hoped Lip wouldn't be long.

They went upstairs to Mickey's room. "What's up?"

"Here." Lip held out a check.

Mickey took it and looked at Lip in confusion.

"What is this?"

"The slave's family usually offers a gift on Claiming Day. I'm sure my mother didn't bother, so..."

"Lip...this...this is a check for $250,000. That's crazy. I can't accept this."

"Why not? Look, I know you're not wealthy and New York is expensive. Take the money. It's a gift from me, not my mother. Just take it."

"Lip..."

"It's really not that much, Mickey. The Claiming Day gifts I've seen given are far more than this. Cars, yachts, stocks, plus cash. This is my small way of saying thank you for being good to Ian. I still don't understand how you got my mother to go along, but I'm glad you did. So take the money and take care of my little brother."

Mickey stared at the check.

He could really use the money. It would make things easier as he and Ian got settled. Mickey planned to work and go to school, but he didn't want Ian working. At least not yet. Ian needed to get stronger before Mickey would feel comfortable allowing him to work. For now he wanted Ian to focus on navigating school.

Mickey nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

Lip grinned. "No problem."

* * *

Finally.

Alone.

No rules.

No restrictions.

Just Mickey and Ian.

Master and slave.

The moment they were inside their room, Ian fell to his knees at Mickey's feet, forehead pressed to the floor. He'd been dying to do this all day. Mickey looked down at him lovingly. Ian was so beautiful. Thank God he was his.

"Up Ian."

Ian slowly rose to his feet.

Mickey reached over and caressed his cheek. Ian closed his eyes and pressed his face against Mickey's hand. "Please master...let me serve you." Mickey's already hard cock grew harder.

"First we need to shower. Stand still."

Ian stilled as Mickey slowly unbuttoned his shirt and allowed it to fall to the floor. Mickey took a deep breath as he stared at his smooth, firm chest. He couldn't resist. He leaned over and slowly licked up Ian's chest from his navel to his neck and then slowly licked and gently bit each nipple. Ian whined and swayed."

"Remain still."

Ian froze again as Mickey slowly ran his hands all over his chest and back, memorizing every line and dip of muscle. He kept exploring until he found Ian's purr spot. It was the spot on a slave where a master could press their hand, causing the slave to purr internally expressing contentment. Mickey was pleased to find that Ian's spot was just to the right of the small of his back. He pressed gently and Ian immediately began purring loudly.

Mickey stared into Ian's eyes as he moved his hands to the zipper of Ian's pants. He slowly unbuttoned and unzipped, and Ian quickly stepped out. Mickey's hands trembled slightly with anticipation as he slid his fingers into the waistband of Ian's boxers. He pulled them down slowly.

Wow.

Damn.

Ian's cock was long, large, fully erect and beautiful. Mickey stared at it for a moment before lightly grazing his fingers up and down, making Ian shiver. He wrapped his hand fully around the thick cock and began stroking gently, using the precum for lubrication. Ian moaned and struggled to stay on his feet. Mickey watched and listened carefully, taking note of every moan, gasp and whine. Once Ian was near the edge, he quickly removed his hand. Ian stumbled forward a bit as his body sought the touch. Mickey steadied him and stepped back.

"You will learn to control yourself. Your orgasms belong to me."

Ian took a few deep breaths. "Yes master."

"On your knees."

Ian immediately fell to his knees.

"You will assume this position every morning by my bedside. Do you understand?"

"Yes master."

Mickey placed a hand under his chin and tilted his head back. Ian's eyes were full of submissive desire.

"I have several rules for you. You will learn these rules. You will learn control and you will always obey."

"Yes master. I live to serve you. Please...let me serve you."

Mickey smiled."First we shower."

Mickey stepped back and carefully removed his clothes. Ian's eyes grew dark and lustful as he gazed upon Mickey's naked body for the first time.

"Do you like what you see?"

Ian nodded vigorously.

"Good. Follow me."

Ian remained on his hands and knees and started to crawl after Mickey to the bathroom. Mickey stopped and stared at him. Ian stared back expectantly.

Oh.

Of course.

He hadn't given him permission to stand.

 _Ian wants to serve you, wants to submit to you...It's your job to make sure he understands what you want and expect and to be very clear and firm._

Mickey pulled Ian to his feet and they walked to the bathroom. He adjusted the water, grabbed his body wash and loofah, and climbed in the shower, pulling Ian in with him. He took his time soaping and washing Ian's body. When he was done, he handed the loofah to Ian who gently washed Mickey's body using his hands more than the loofah. He'd waited two years to be allowed to touch Mickey, and he wanted to feel every inch of him.

Now clean and warm, Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's waist and they began to kiss. They started slow and soft, exploring each others tongue and taste, savoring the feel of their lips pressed together. Soon their kisses grew heated, urgent, full of passion and pent up lust and desire. Mickey pushed Ian up against the shower wall and pressed his body into his as he quickly slid his tongue inside his mouth. Ian's moan was deep and loud. The press of a master's body was almost incapacitating for a slave, especially a claimed one. The pressure evoked intense feelings of being dominated and possessed.

Mickey grabbed Ian's hands, pinned them above his head and pressed harder. Ian's moans grew louder with an edge of desperation.

Mickey pulled back and then pressed forward again, making sure their cocks rubbed together. Ian released a needy cry.

"Ohhh...please master...please..."

Mickey ignored him. Instead he tightened his grip on Ian's wrists, smashed their bodies together again and captured Ian's mouth with his.

Ian's body tensed. His mind was screaming.

No Ian!

Don't do it!

" _You will learn to control yourself. Your orgasms belong to me."_

Mickey could feel Ian's struggle. He pressed harder and kissed deeper. Would he break?

Ian broke.

His body convulsed and he erupted with a scream. Mickey held him tight as his body shuddered and then melted. Ian was breathing hard, his mind thick and fuzzy. As his breathing slowed and he realized what he'd done, he wilted.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I disobeyed you...oh, please...I'm sorry..."

Mickey shushed him and stroked his hair. While his touch was gentle and loving, his voice was firm and strong. "You will learn control."

Mickey shut off the water and they climbed out. He handed Ian a towel. "Go dry off and wait for me."

Mickey began his moisturizing routine. His father's words wandered through his brain.

 _He can't just know you are his master. He must feel you are his master, and that feeling comes from the demands you make of him._

Mickey inspected his skin one final time before walking into the bedroom. Ian was on his knees, wet messy curls all over the place as drops of water ran down his temples and his back. Mickey grabbed a towel and dried his hair. Ian smiled in appreciation. Mickey smiled back and tangled his fingers in his curls. He tightened his grip and jerked Ian's head back. He focused on Ian's eyes, searching for clues. Mickey's dominance grew stronger as Ian's eyes told him what he needed to know.

There was no fear in his eyes.

Only submissive desire. Stronger than before. Pleading with him.

 _Show no mercy. He doesn't want it, or need it._

Mickey leaned down and kissed him. "Stay. Eyes on the floor."

Mickey rummaged around in his bag and took out a matching set of black leather locking wrist and ankle restraints and a connector strap. He gently pulled Ian's arms behind his back and locked his wrists together. He did the same for his ankles. He then connected the restraints, forcing Ian to lean back slightly, but not uncomfortably. Mickey looked at Ian's cock. It was hard and twitching.

"We must teach you control." He dug around in his bag and pulled out a black, iron device. It looked medieval. He kneeled down in front of Ian.

"Look at me, my love." Ian looked at Mickey and then the device. His eyes grew side and a ripple of excitement ran through his body. Mickey wrapped his hand around Ian's cock.

"This is a cock trainer. It's far tighter and crueler than what you will wear everyday, but it will help you learn control." Mickey carefully placed Ian's cock inside the tight cage and wrapped a tight leather strap around his balls.

The effect was immediate.

Ian's body relaxed, as his mind shifted and slid into the deep pool of submission within him. He winced as he felt the tiny spikes nip his skin, but the pain was pleasurable.

Mickey stood in front of him, cock in hand.

"Now you may serve me."

Ian hungrily sunk down on the cock he had spent two years craving. Despite its length and size, Ian was able to take it all the way in before sucking up and almost off. His cock struggled inside the cruel cage as Mickey moaned and gripped his hair tighter, his hips thrusting forward slightly. Ian sucked firm and deep, relishing the choking sensation from the thickness. As Mickey began thrusting with more force, Ian relaxed and allowed his mouth to be fucked. With every push down his throat, he felt more and more dominated. The feeling, coupled with the restraints and torture to his cock was amazing. He felt completely controlled. Owned. Loved.

Mickey came with a strong rush of cum and a high-pitched scream. Ian swirled his tongue around Mickey's cock as he sought to taste as much as possible before swallowing. Mickey held his head tight, pressing his face into his groin. Ian didn't move. He instinctively knew to wait until Mickey chose to release him.

Mickey pulled out and fell on to the bed. He relaxed in a post-orgasmic haze. After several minutes, he opened his eyes and glanced at Ian. Ian's eyes were closed. His lips were wet and shiny and he was quietly moaning as his cock struggled inside the cage. Every tiny twitch was torture.

"Look at me, Ian."

Despite his struggle, Ian's eyes were bright and excited.

"I love you."

"I love you, master."

Mickey thought for a moment. "I don't want you to call me master. Maybe sometimes, but I think I prefer sir."

"Yes sir."

Mickey unpacked their clothes for the next day, checked their flight information and read the instructions on how to drop off the car. Ian remained locked in sexual agony. To make matters worse, Mickey remained naked. Staring at Mickey's naked body made Ian's cock attempt to lengthen and grow, leading to more painful pleasure. Mickey finally knelt down in front of him.

"I think that's enough training for tonight. Remember, the sooner you learn control, the sooner you will earn your permanent cage."

Mickey released the leather restraints and helped Ian stand. He did not remove the cage until Ian was lying on his back on the bed with Mickey straddling him. Mickey immediately swallowed Ian's cock. Ian cried out and arched his hips, pushing his sore cock further into Mickey's mouth. Mickey licked and sucked and then pulled off. He gently massaged Ian's balls with his tongue before moving up to slide his tongue into Ian's mouth. Once more they lost themselves in a series of long, wet, loving kisses that turned passionate and urgent with longing. Mickey quietly murmured against Ian's skin as he kissed his neck and chest.

"I love you so much. You are mine, and I'll never let you go. Never."

Ian purred and leaned into Mickey's touch. His body quivered as Mickey kissed down his thighs and then gently bent his knees, placing his feet flat on the bed. He pulled Ian's arms down to lie flat on either side of his body. Mickey reached over and grabbed another set of restraints. He locked one end around Ian's ankle and attached the other end to his wrist, repeating on the other side. Ian legs were now spread open, his wrists tied to his ankles. Ian pulled at the restraints and felt a wonderful rush of vulnerability and capture as they tightened. Mickey grabbed a bottle of lube, poured a generous amount in his hand, and lightly rubbed Ian's hole. Ian pulled harder at the restraints and groaned as Mickey's fingers slowly worked him open. Mickey took his time, moving gently, pressing in and out, listening to Ian's gasps and groans. He paused to pour more lube in his hand to slick up his cock. Listening to Ian and sliding his hand up and down himself almost made Mickey lose it. He leaned forward and kissed Ian deeply. It was just the two of them, but for one last time, Mickey followed the directions of the state.

"You are my capture. You have been claimed. Now I confirm."

Ian cried out from the sudden sensation of Mickey quickly sliding his cock inside him. His eyes widened as Mickey continued to push, filling him completely. The tight fullness in his ass was overwhelming and made his entire body feel consumed.

Mickey closed his eyes and began thrusting in and out. He could feel his dominance grow and spread into Ian. Ian could feel it overtake his body and mind. It was hot, overwhelming and intense. With every push into his ass, he could feel Mickey's command filling him, capturing him and then releasing him, only to fill and capture him again. His submission was swirling and burning as he felt completely possessed and owned.

Mickey sped up and Ian rolled his head back and forth, pulling at the restraints, trying to keep himself from exploding. He was on the edge of no return and he really didn't want to disobey a second time.

"Please sir...I...ohhh..."

"Come Ian!"

Ian screamed as Mickey's cum shot into him, thick and hot. At the same time, his cock poured cum all down his stomach. They were both screaming and shaking. Mickey pressed his body down into Ian, causing another surge of orgasmic waves to race through Ian's over sensitive system. He screamed as the waves overwhelmed him and he passed out.

They made love three more times. No restraints or rules. Just kisses, caresses and gentle, exploratory touches. Ian worshiped Mickey with his tongue, licking every crevice and surface of pale skin, happy to finally have the freedom to fully enjoy Mickey's body. Mickey kissed and sucked Ian's skin, leaving passion marks all over, marking him as owned.

As they slept, the submissive core of Ian's brain processed everything that had taken place that night. Every kiss, touch and cock thrust by Mickey had been absorbed, and was now sorted and ingrained in Ian's being. His mind created a permanent memory of Mickey's essence that would force him to immediately respond to Mickey's voice and presence. Like his purr spot, the lubricating function of his body was activated. From now on, Ian's ass would automatically grow moist and slick when Mickey initiated sex.

By morning the process was complete.

Captured.

Claimed.

Confirmed.

* * *

Kash sat in the corner of his dad's office, his eyes on the floor, avoiding Alex's gaze. Alex stared at him with desperate longing. Michael K sat at his desk, frowning at Alex's father.

Part of him wanted to help the man kill Kash.

"Mr. Patterson, please accept my deep apologies for this situation. I assure you that Kash will be heavily punished for his reprehensible and irresponsible behavior. I promise you that this will not happen again to any other slave."

"Frankly, K, I don't give a damn about whether or not it happens to another slave. I care that it happened to my kid, and I expect you to make it right."

Kash looked up. Make it right?

Michael K shifted uncomfortably. "Naturally I'm happy to compensate you and your son for any emotional…"

"I want a claim."

"What?"

"I want a claim. I want your son to step up and do the right thing. Kash should claim Alex."

Kash was panic-stricken. A claim? He didn't want to claim Alex. He'd only wanted to fuck him. Alex was short and cute with curly black hair. He'd only wanted him because he reminded him of…

"I'm sorry Mr. Patterson, but a claim is out of the question. As you can see from my son's unfortunate behavior, he's not quite ready to take on the responsibility of a claim."

"Oh, he's ready. If he's ready to screw a slave, then he's ready to make a claim."

"Surely you realize…"

"What I realize is that your son is a serial rapist. That's right. I said it. What? Did you think I would walk in here without doing my research? I have friends in the Ministry. This isn't the first time your son has slept with a slave and walked away. You can't claim he doesn't know the rules because he does. He just thinks he can get away with it because of your money. Well I'm not going for it. Not everyone can be bought. Either he claims Alex, or I report him to the Ministry and file suit."

Michael looked at Kash. Kash caved inward under his father's fierce, stone cold stare. Fear trickled up his spine. Maybe he should agree to claim Alex and move in with the Pattersons. At least he'd stay alive.

After a few moments, Michael turned back to Mr. Patterson. He took in his polyester suit, wrinkled shirt and cheap shoes. Why the hell was Kash slumming it? He glanced at Alex who was still staring at Kash. Decent looking kid. He reminded him of someone, but he couldn't remember who. Didn't matter. This was not the type of slave Kash could claim.

"First of all, my son is not a rapist. Perhaps your son is a whore. Second, in my experience, everyone has a price. Name yours."

"I want a claim."

"No you don't. Name your price."

"Claim."

"Price."

"Claim."

"A claim is out of the question and will not happen. You have 30 seconds to tell me what it will take to help Alex get over his suffering before I throw you out. Feel free to take me to court. I can afford the legal fees, you can't. As for the Ministry, I too have friends there."

Mr. Patterson sat quietly for a moment. He reached over and took a pad of paper off Michael's desk. He picked up a pen, wrote down a number and handed it to him. Michael glanced at it, took out his checkbook, wrote a check and handed it to Mr. Patterson.

"Now get out."

Mr. Patterson stood up. "Come on."

Alex's eyes grew wide and he started whining. "No! I wanna stay with Kash!" His father grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the door. "Come on! Let's get out of here." Alex turned to Kash. "Kash…please..I love you! Please, don't do this! I'll be a good slave for you. I promise. Why don't you want me?" Alex's father kept dragging him. "Kash! Kash! Sebast…"

The door closed.

Kash sat there staring at the floor. He didn't realize his father had stood up and crossed the room until he felt the hard slap across his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you? How could you do that? Again! When are you going to grow the fuck up?"

"I'm sorry…I…" He was cut off by his father slapping him again.

"Enough! I don't wanna hear it! I'm done, Kash. Done! You fuck up again, you're on your own. Do you hear me? I mean it. I'm not bailing you out anymore. You get in trouble, don't call me! You're on your own. I suggest you keep your damn dick in your pants, concentrate on class and stay the hell away from slaves! What's wrong with you? Why can't you just stake a claim and settle down? If you're so damn horny, find a slave, claim him and then you can fuck his brains out! Stop screwing around!"

Michael walked over to the small office bar and noisily fixed himself a drink.

Kash just sat there.

Maybe if they'd given him who he wanted, he wouldn't have these problems.

He stood up and walked towards the door. He turned and glared at his father.

"Fuck you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Ian was sitting at the piano, eyes closed in deep concentration. He allowed the notes to flow over and through him as he listened to the words and tried to imagine Rachel's voice singing them instead of Kaden's.

When Kaden finished, Ian opened his eyes and immediately began marking up the music sheet in front of him while mumbling to himself.

"Well?"

"It's great, but I think I want to go a chord higher. Rachel's voice can handle it."

"Okay. Wanna break for lunch? I'm starving."

Ian nodded. "Yeah. Let me text Mickey."

Kaden jealously watched Ian send a quick message to Mickey.

 _K and I going to lunch at the Sandwich Stop._

A moment later his phone beeped with the reply.

 _Okay. Text me when you are back at the studio. Love you._

 _Yes sir. Love you._

They walked the two blocks to the Sandwich Stop and were pleased to find it busy, but not packed. After placing their orders and receiving their food, they found a table near the door. They were almost finished when a tall, blue-eyed blonde stopped at their table. He'd been watching them since they entered, his eyes fixed on Kaden.

"Hello."

Both Ian and Kaden looked up. Kaden quickly looked back down, but Ian continued staring at the blonde. Thanks to Mickey he wasn't the terrified slave he'd been in high school. Being claimed, coupled with Mickey's coaching and encouragement has helped Ian gain the strength necessary to navigate a world run by masters. Mickey demanded full submission from Ian, but he didn't want him giving it to anyone else.

" _Your submission is to me, and me alone. I am your master. To submit to another master is an insult to me. Do you want to insult me, Ian?"_

" _No. Never sir. Never."_

" _Then don't."_

The blonde smiled at how quickly Kaden lowered his eyes. That was a good sign.

"Can we help you?" Ian asked.

The blonde glanced at him and then turned his attention back to Kaden.

"I was thinking that maybe I can help your friend. He appears to be unclaimed."

Kaden continued staring at his plate. Ian frowned. He didn't like this. He was getting a bad vibe from this guy.

"He doesn't need any help. He's fine."

Kaden gave Ian a desperate look. _What_ a _re you saying? I'm not fine. I want to be claimed. Stop cock-blocking._

The blonde ignored Ian. "Is that true, cutie? Are you fine?"

Kaden kept his eyes down and shook his head. The blonde's stare intensified as his voice turned deeper and dominant.

"What's your name?"

"Kaden. Kaden James."

"Look at me, Kaden."

The blonde took out his cell phone and handed it to Kaden.

"Give me your number."

Ian reached across the table and snatched the phone from Kaden.

"Kaden! Do you really want to give him your number?"

"Ian, gimme the phone!"

"You don't have to. You can say no." Ian pressed the phone into the blonde's hand.

The blonde looked at Ian in surprise and disgust. He glanced at Ian's neck again to make sure he really was claimed. Who the hell was his master? If this slave belonged to him, he'd beat some respect into him.

A redhead carrying two large bags of sandwiches appeared.

"Jake, I got everything. Let's go."

Jake looked at Kaden. "I suggest you stop hanging out with him if you ever want to get claimed." He turned and left.

Kaden watched him leave before turning to Ian in anger.

"Why did you do that?"

"Come on, Kaden. Did you really want to give that guy your number? You can do so much better."

"That's not your decision!"

"I was doing you a favor! That guy was a predatory loser!"

"How do you know? Maybe I don't care! You don't get it, Ian! You don't know what it's like. Being unclaimed. Being alone. Lying awake at night wishing there was someone...anyone to take care of you. To dominate you and make you feel whole again." Kaden's shoulders sagged as he stared sadly at his plate. "You don't know what it's like to be empty all the time. Especially when you know what it feels like to be full."

Ian reached over and took Kaden's hand. "But...you don't want what happened to you to happen again. If you wanna avoid that you have to make better choices."

Kaden snatched his hand away. "I did make a good choice. He just...it just..." Kaden stood up. "I'll see you back at the studio."

"Kaden! Kaden, wait!" Ian watched Kaden run out of the restaurant.

Well shit.

Of course, Kaden was right. Ian didn't know what it was like to be alone. He'd always had Mickey. Always knew Mickey would keep his word and claim him. What if Mickey had done to him what Kaden's ex-boyfriend had done? Sleeping with him for years only to abandon his promise to claim him, leaving him shattered, heartbroken and desperate for a master. Kaden had been through a lot, including abuse at the hands of an older, wealthy master named Mario who offered Kaden to his friends and clients for sex. It was the guilt-ridden ex-boyfriend who rescued Kaden and returned him to his parents. After taking some time to recover, Kaden returned to school part-time and got a job working at the studio where he met Ian. Kaden was better, but he longed for a master. His longing made him easy prey. Ian worried about Kaden, the way Wes worried about Ian in high school.

Ian slowly walked back to the studio. Kaden was fiddling with the sound mixing equipment. He gave Ian a guilty look.

"I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to look out for me, and I appreciate it. I really do."

Ian shook his head. "Forget it. Don't worry, Kaden. He's out there. The right master will find you, or you'll find him."

Kaden shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe. Let's finish so we can send this over to Rachel."

The two were soon so engrossed in their work that Ian didn't remember until his phone rang.

He froze.

He never told Mickey he was back.

He grabbed his phone. "Hello sir."

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm at the studio. I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry. I forgot."

Ian could hear Mickey's sigh of relief. "I was worried."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Mickey was silent for a moment.

"Disobedience must be punished, Ian."

Ian closed his eyes and winced as his cock pushed against steel.

"Yes sir."

"We will deal with this when we get home."

"Yes sir."

Mickey hung up.

Ian stood there with his eyes closed. His cock strained painfully inside the steel cage. He tried to think of something, anything but Mickey punishing him.

Kaden smiled as he watched Ian struggle. He'd thought about reminding him to text Mickey, but decided against it. His way of thanking Ian for his concern. He hoped Mickey punished him in the most delicious ways possible.

* * *

At 3:58 pm Ian walked out of the studio. Mickey was already there wearing sunglasses, leaning against the car, arms folded.

"Hello sir."

"Hello disobedient one." Mickey's dominance rippled through Ian. He couldn't help himself. He fell to his knees, forehead pressed to the ground. Mickey looked down at him.

"Yes. Why don't you stay there for awhile."

Mickey took out his phone and sent a text to Chandler.

 _Can we change the time from 6 to 7? I have to deal with Ian._

 _Of course. I hope deal with means punish ;-_

 _Yes, but I'm not the sadist you are._

 _Liar! You just won't let go. Seth loves it. So would Ian. C U at 7._

Mickey laughed to himself. Chandler and Seth were a match made in heaven. Mickey had seen the punishing torture Chandler inflicted on Seth and Seth couldn't get enough.

He glanced down at Ian. Chandler was right. Ian's submissiveness would totally allow Mickey to be a sadist, but Mickey didn't go there. Instead he craved pure control. He was sure the roots of this were born from feeling so out of control in high school, but he didn't spend time over-analyzing himself. He simply accepted that it was how his dominance was wired. He demanded respect, obedience and complete control over Ian, and Ian happily submitted. Wanted to submit. Needed to submit. They were perfect together.

Mickey opened the car door and told Ian to crawl inside. Ian immediately obeyed. Mickey stepped inside and closed the door. Ian remained crouched on the floor of the car for the entire ride home. When they pulled up in front of their building, Mickey opened the door and stepped out. Ian carefully crawled out of the car.

"You will crawl until I permit you to walk."

"Yes sir."

Once inside, Mickey sat down on the couch. "Come here. Stand in front of me."

Mickey unbuttoned and unzipped Ian's pants. He pulled everything down and off leaving Ian in his shirt and the cockcage. Mickey reached behind the cage and lightly fondled Ian's balls.

"I would think the cage would remind you of me all day. Perhaps I'll have to start doing something a bit stronger."

Ian swallowed and whined just a little.

Mickey removed the cage. "I have a few ideas, but for now we will deal with your disobedience. Go shower in your bathroom and wait for me in the bedroom."

Ian dropped to his knees and crawled to his bathroom. It was smaller than Mickey's and was perfect for occasions like this when they both needed to shower but Mickey wanted to shower alone.

Ten minutes later Ian was on his knees in the middle of the bedroom. His hands were folded, eyes on the floor. The moment he heard Mickey enter the room his cock hardened, but he didn't dare look up.

"Up on the bed, on your back."

Ian scrambled on to the bed. His heartbeat sped up when he saw the iron chains. He loved when Mickey used the iron chains. They were tight and heavy and made him fully feel like a slave. Mickey chained his wrists and ankles to the bed before straddling his body. He ran his fingers lightly up and down Ian's chest, over his nipples and up and down his arms. He pressed his body down into Ian's, causing Ian to groan and feel a bit dizzy from the strong feelings coursing through him. He did this a few more times until Ian's body was hot and buzzing with need. Mickey grabbed the lube from the nightstand, poured some on his hand, and began to prepare his ass for Ian's cock.

This was their special secret.

From everything Mickey had read and heard, masters always topped, but Mickey enjoyed bottoming. He loved the feel of Ian sliding inside him, wide, heavy and hard. He didn't know about other slaves since Ian was the only person he'd ever slept with, but he had a feeling that Ian's cock was larger than most slaves because it was almost the exact same size as his.

He also loved this position for the torment it caused Ian. It took every ounce of submission within him not to come until Mickey gave him permission, and he wasn't always granted permission.

Watching Mickey drove Ian crazy with desire. Mickey looked so hot with his head thrown back, fingers quickly darting in and out of his ass, as little moans and gasps of pleasure escaped his throat. Once he was ready, he wrapped his hand around Ian's cock and pumped it up and down, coating it with lube. Ian was trembling.

"You may not come. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You will control yourself."

"Y-yes sir."

Mickey raised himself up and slowly lowered himself down. Ian gasped and groaned as Mickey's ass clinched hot and tight around his cock. He strained against the chains to arch his hips up into Mickey and quickly realized that was a mistake. It intensified the feeling and he could feel his orgasm jump forward. He growled as he tried to push it back down under his control. Mickey smiled wickedly as he saw the agony of struggle on Ian's face. He sped up and was soon fucking himself hard and fast on Ian's cock.

"Will you disobey me again, Ian?"

Ian struggled to speak. "N-no sir. N-never."

"Say it, Ian."

"I...will never...disobey...my master."

"Repeat until I tell you to stop."

Ian struggled to speak and concentrate on not coming at the same time. Mickey was a vision of control. He bounced up and down with deep concentration, his eyes never leaving Ian's face. His body moved with a beauty and grace that made no sense given how hard he was fucking himself on the thick cock inside him.

Ian was drowning in his submission, diving deeper and deeper to find the strength not to come. He would not disobey his master.

Mickey suddenly pulled up and off completely. Ian choked and wailed, but he didn't come. Mickey stared into his eyes.

"Not one drop, Ian."

Ian screamed in frustration and strained within the iron chains. Mickey moved all the way up and pressed his cock into Ian's mouth. Ian clung to the weak control he had over his orgasm as Mickey fucked his mouth hard and fast. Ian moaned around the cock, waiting desperately for the release of cum to pour down his throat, but Mickey was having none of that.

He pulled out suddenly and came with a loud scream all over Ian's chest.

Ian was breathing hard, his arm and leg muscles tense, eyes squeezed shut as he refused to give in to the tight, intense need to come.

Mickey reached over and grabbed a few wet wipes. He cleaned Ian's chest and then leaned down to kiss him. Ian breathed a little easier.

But Mickey wasn't done.

He stood up and walked over to a cherry wood cabinet. He unlocked it and took out a long, large, black inflatable dildo. It was the kind he only used for punishment.

Ian's body shook. No way he could withstand the feelings it would cause. Not when he was already teetering on the edge.

Mickey slowly slid it into Ian's hole. He pumped the air bulb until Ian screamed. His ass was overly full and his cock was hard as stone. It would take everything in him not to explode.

Mickey gave the bulb one more cruel pump. He placed a ball gag in Ian's mouth and a safety buzzer in his hand.

"I want you to lay there and think about your disobedience."

Ian closed his eyes and did just that. Submitting and obeying Mickey filled him with a warm peace and sense of contentment. It made him happy and it made Mickey happy. Ian would try his damndest to never disobey again, and that included not coming despite the sexual agony he was in. His ass was incredibly tight and full and the dildo was in far enough to lightly hit his prostate. Just enough of a gentle graze to cause the worse type of teasing torture. Ian's cock was twitching and throbbing, desperate to be touched, licked or up Mickey's ass.

Mickey returned 20 minutes later. He removed the ballgag and dildo, and unchained Ian. Ian rolled off the bed and dropped to his knees. His body was shaking with unreleased tension, his cock still hard and throbbing. Mickey looked down at him and ran his fingers through his curls.

"I love you so much, Ian. I worry about you when I don't hear from you."

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's legs and pressed his face into his thigh. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Do you understand why I am punishing you?"

"Yes sir. I didn't text you when I returned to the studio and you told me to."

Mickey nodded. "That's right. You must always obey me."

"Yes sir."

"Wash up and get dressed. You will remain on your knees until Chandler and Seth arrive."

"Yes sir." Ian's cock was hard and screaming in desperation.

No relief tonight. Not that he expected any.

* * *

When the buzzer rang, Mickey nodded at Ian giving him permission to walk. Ian buzzed them in and opened the door. He grinned when he saw Chandler and Seth coming down the hall, Seth's guitar slung over his shoulder.

"Hi!"

"Hey!"

"Ah, Ian. So sad to see you can walk," Chandler smirked. "Mickey always insists on going easy on you."

Mickey gave Chandler a bitchy look. "Shut up and come in."

The four had been friends since college. Ian met Chandler during his freshman year when Chandler rescued him from a very aggressive master who didn't care that Ian was obviously claimed. He'd cornered Ian in one of the music practice rooms and refused to let him leave. Back then Ian was still struggling to assert himself. He was trapped by fear of the master looming over him, fear of angering Mickey by submitting to another master, and fear of disappointing Mickey by not standing up for himself.

Chandler heard Ian's pleas to be left alone and stopped to see what was going on. At first he thought it was a private disagreement between a master and his slave, but the decorative beauty of Ian's collar caught his eye. The beautiful, obviously custom designed collar didn't match the hideous shirt and ugly pants the master was wearing. Someone that fashion challenged couldn't have the taste or inclination to design something so beautiful. Chandler confronted the master. When he realized what was going on, he threatened to kick his ass and report him to the Masters Ministry. The jerk took off and Chandler took a badly shaken Ian home to a grateful Mickey.

Mickey met Seth a month later while choosing music for a show audition. Seth struck up a conversation with Mickey, drawn to his dominant presence. Mickey quickly explained that he already had a slave, but he knew someone who was looking if Seth was interested. Seth was interested, but cautious. He was looking for more than a master. He wanted a sadist who would torture him within an inch of his life, but had a loving heart and believed in romance.

Chandler was a bit reluctant too. He was looking for more than just a slave. He wanted a masochist who would beg for cruelty, take everything he could dish out, and loved romantic comedies.

Mickey and Ian introduced the two over dinner, and it was love at first sight. Chandler invited Seth to dinner for the very next night. When he arrived at Seth's door, he presented him with flowers. They enjoyed a delicious, candlelight dinner at a very romantic restaurant.

Seth went home with Chandler that night.

Chandler whipped his back raw, fucked him hard, bound him in leather and suspended him with chains from the ceiling of his bedroom above his bed.

It was the number one best night of Seth's life.

Chandler claimed him a week later. They'd been together ever since.

They settled in the living room. Mickey sat on the couch while Chandler sat in a chair. Both slaves sat at their master's feet. Chandler asked Mickey how the show rehearsals were going. This sent Mickey off into a long, humorous tirade on the lack of talent of his co-star, Brad. Ian, Chandler and Seth laughed hysterically at Mickey's imitations and exaggerations.

"We're still stuck on the argument scene at the end of act one because the man apparently does not know how to act an argument without screaming. I finally said to him, at the end of his long and badly performed speech, "why are you screaming at me?" He looks at me and says, "that's not your line." Ugh!"

Chandler grinned. "Poor Mickey. Always forced to deal with lesser actors and fools."

"Damn right. I truly suffer for my art."

Seth looked at Chandler. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

Seth looked at Ian for help. Ian looked at Mickey.

"I'm starving."

"You and Seth go in the kitchen and order whatever you want. Order me a salad."

Ian and Seth headed for the kitchen. Chandler shook his head.

"Honestly, Mickey. A salad? Please don't tell me you're dieting?"

"I have to stay in shape, especially for the show. I want to fit into my costume opening night. It's embarrassing to ask for alterations after the initial fitting."

Pizza ordered, Ian and Seth went to the Broadway room to hang out. It was a study in the back of the apartment where they kept Ian's piano and music, Mickey's scripts and show posters and all other things related to their creative professions and love of music and theater.

Mickey and Chandler continued chatting in the living room, serenaded by the sounds of Ian playing piano and Seth playing guitar. Chandler suddenly joined Mickey on the couch, his expression serious.

"Uh oh. You look like we're about to have an adult conversation."

"I wanted to ask you something."

Mickey nodded. "Sure."

"Didn't you tell me one time that Ian came from a wealthy family?"

"Yeah."

"Exactly who is his family?"

"His mother is Monica RamKen Gallagher. She owns..."

Chandler interrupted. "Ramken Industries."

Mickey was surprised. "Yes. How did you know that?"

"They've been in the business section quite a bit recently. Ramken Industries is gearing up for a major, multi-million dollar expansion into Europe. It's huge. There's been rumors swirling about whether or not they have enough cash for such a major move. Word is they might go public. There was a picture of Monica Ramken Gallagher and Alex Gallagher next to the article. Alex Gallagher reminded me of Ian and it made me wonder if there was a connection. Ian looks like his dad."

Mickey shrugged. He'd never laid eyes on the man. He paid absolutely no attention to anything going on in the business world, and he certainly didn't keep up with Monica Gallagher's activities.

"An initial public offering of a company like that will be a big deal. Does Ian have any financial ties to the company?"

Mickey shook his head. "No. None. It's all his older brother and his mother and I suppose his dad. His older brother runs some part of the company in Michigan. Ian has nothing to do with his family or the business."

Chandler sat back. "Hmph."

"What?"

"It's just...Ramken Industries is one of the top 10 privately held companies in the world. It would be a shame if they go public and he's not a shareholder. He'd become a millionaire overnight."

Mickey shook his head. "No. Ian's mother is an evil bitch. She was horrible to Ian. I don't want her, or her money anywhere near us. We don't need it or them."

Chandler was quiet for a moment. "Mickey...can I ask you a sorta...insulting question?"

Mickey arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but...how did you end up with Ian? I mean...slaves from families like his...they tend to use them as a part of business deals."

Mickey was quiet. Now that he was older, wiser, and a bit more worldly, he truly understood just how unusual it was for him to have been allowed to claim Ian. Most masters and slaves claimed within their social class. He understood Chandler's curiosity. He also wondered sometimes if his father had told him the whole truth about his deal with Monica.

"My dad convinced his mother that she should give him to me. In exchange my father...looks out for legislation she likes." Mickey felt dirty saying that out loud. "He's not doing anything wrong. They see eye-to-eye on business stuff, so...it's not like he's being bought or anything. He's not doing anything illegal."

Chandler nodded. "Don't worry. I understand, and I'm glad Ian is with you and not trapped with someone who wants him for all the wrong reasons."

Mickey was relieved when the buzzer rang signaling the arrival of the pizza and the end of the conversation.

I&M&M&I

In bed that night, Mickey pulled Ian on top of him.

"Make love to me."

Ian was surprised. Mickey never broke punishments. Punishments always lasted until the next morning or longer depending upon Mickey's mood. Ian had expected to suffer until Sunday.

Mickey could see his surprise. "I need to feel you in me again."

Ian growled quietly as he kissed Mickey with a slightly demanding firmness.

This was another reason why Mickey enjoyed having Ian top. He was sure it helped Ian grow stronger. Mickey loved watching the small changes that took place in Ian when he topped. The way his eyes turned darker as his physical presence became more powerful, his voice deeper and commanding. Mickey found him hot as hell.

Ian wasted no time trailing his tongue down Mickey's body until he reached his hole. He softly licked around it before sliding his tongue in and out slowly causing Mickey to tremble.

"Ohhh...Ian...please...in me..."

Ian grabbed the lube, slicked himself up and slid in slowly. Mickey groaned, arched his hips up and pressed his feet into Ian's lower back urging him to go deeper. Ian pulled out slowly and then thrust in hard and deep. The speed of his thrusts increased steadily as Mickey grew louder.

"Oh, Ian...fuck...yes...fuck...yes...fuck..."

Ian fell into a sexual trance, his hips thrusting hard and strong in time to Mickey's cries. He could feel his building orgasm growing hot and more intense than normal due to the unreleased buildup of earlier that evening.

"Sir...please...permission..."

"Yes! Come, Ian! Come!"

Ian's entire body tensed and then exploded. He growled through his orgasm while Mickey stroked himself. Ian swatted Mickey's hand away and swallowed his cock. It only took a few strong strokes of his tongue for Mickey to burst in Ian's mouth. Ian moaned appreciatively, swallowing every drop before sliding up Mickey's body to collapse on top of him. Mickey wrapped his arms and legs around him and squeezed.

"I love you."

"I love you."

* * *

Ian opened his eyes and looked at the clock.

9:27 am. Saturday.

Free day.

He quietly slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom and then the kitchen. He pulled a box of Apple Jacks out of the cabinet and grabbed a large bowl. After filling the bowl with cereal and milk, he grabbed another bowl and filled it with strawberries, blueberries, blackberries and grapes and headed back to bed. He sat the bowl of fruit down on Mickey's nightstand and then climbed into bed, grabbed the remote and turned on cartoons. He was happy to find a classic Tom and Jerry cartoon. He settled against the pillows with his cereal and lost himself in the adventures of Jerry trying to outsmart Tom.

30 minutes later Mickey opened his eyes and smiled as he heard the sounds of Tom and Jerry classical music. He rolled over and felt happy at the sight of Ian, propped up against the pillows, curls all over the place, staring at the TV like a five year old. Mickey eyed the empty bowl of cereal and rolled his eyes.

After taking a quick shower to clean off the dried evidence of last night, Mickey settled into bed next to Ian with the bowl of fruit. Mickey wasn't big on cartoons, but who didn't like Tom and Jerry?

Once Tom and Jerry went off, Mickey picked up his iPad to check emails and skim the news. Without really thinking about it he clicked on the business section and scrolled down. What was he looking for? Finding nothing, he turned to the fashion section.

They sat in quiet, comfortable silence until the sound of, "Don't Rain on My Parade," filled the air. Ian's cell phone ring for Rachel.

"Hi Rachel."

"Ian! Oh, my God! You are so amazing! I just had a chance to listen to the song and it is perfect! Perfect! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Ian grinned. "Thanks Rachel. I can't wait to hear you sing it."

"You and the rest of the world. I already sent it over to the director. I'm sure he'll love it. Carl and Frank probably won't appreciate me going around them for a new song for the show, but whatever. They'll get over it."

Ian felt a tiny pang of guilt about Carl and Frank. Rachel was the star of a new show titled, "And That's What She Thought." The book and songs were by the writing team of Carl Sands and Frank Wyler. Sands and Wyler were extremely talented and highly respected, but while Rachel loved the story and most of the songs, there were a few she wanted changed or replaced. Unhappy with the reluctance and suggestions of Carl and Frank, she turned to Ian.

Mickey reached for the phone. "Let me talk to her."

"Hey."

"Hi Mickey! Do you know how amazing your boy is?"

"Yes I do, but do you know how ticked Sands and Wyler are going to be with you?"

"Whatever. When they hear the song and see how perfectly it fits, they'll get over whatever petty creative jealousies they may have. Hell, maybe they'll invite Ian to join them."

Mickey frowned. He liked Ian having the creative freedom to write and sell songs at his own pace. He didn't want him tied down by the politics of Broadway.

"Yeah, well you just make sure they don't try to blacklist him or something."

"Honestly, Mickey. It will be fine."

"It better be. If they pitch a fit, I expect you to protect him."

"Of course."

"How's Finn?"

"Oh, he's fine. He's out picking up my Saturday morning coffee and pastries. My one treat of the week."

Like many slaves, Finn didn't work. Instead he was with Rachel 24-7. He sat through all her rehearsals, ran errands, and happily took care of her every need and want.

Mickey and Rachel chatted some more before saying goodbye.

Ian looked at Mickey. "What are we doing today?"

"Grocery shopping."

They lounged around in bed for awhile longer before getting dressed and making a list of everything they needed. As a last minute thought, Mickey grabbed a silver leash for Ian and slipped it in his bag before they headed out.

When they arrived at the store, Mickey was glad he thought to bring the leash. The store was packed. Even busier than a normal Saturday. Mickey hooked the silver leash to Ian's left wrist. Ian felt a warm wave of relaxation and safety settle within him.

As they moved through the store, Mickey noticed that several other masters had leashed their slaves. Many masters connected the leash to the slave's collar, but Mickey never did this in public. He preferred the closeness brought by he and Ian being connected at the wrist. Some slaves were obviously leashed as punishment. They were outfitted in full head harness muzzles with chains running from a D-ring on the muzzle to their handcuffed wrists. Seeing these slaves always made Ian think of Chandler and Seth.

Mickey didn't really have to leash Ian. Ian naturally stayed close to him, but Mickey was feeling a bit on edge. His conversation with Chandler about the Gallagher's business affairs had left him nervous. He wasn't sure why, but a tiny seed of worry had been planted and he couldn't shake it.

Once they were home and putting groceries away, Mickey thought about Lip. Lip was the only person who stayed in touch with Ian. They didn't talk often, but there was the occasional phone call or email.

"When was the last time you talked to Lip?"

Ian looked thoughtful. "Hmm. I'm not sure. It's definitely been awhile. The last time I talked to him he said something about heading to Europe. Paris, I think."

"Did he say why?"

Ian shrugged. "I don't know. Something about the company growing."

A European expansion.

"Why do you ask, sir?"

Mickey turned away from him to alphabetize the cereals.

"Just wondering."

* * *

As always, Ian woke up at 6:30 am on Monday morning. He didn't have an alarm clock. His body was trained.

He followed his usual morning routine and was on his knees at Mickey's bedside by 6:58 am. Mickey woke at 7:00 am.

"Good morning, my love."

"Good morning, sir."

Ian waited patiently to perform Mickey's morning blowjob. Mickey understood the importance of routine for slaves, so he allowed Ian to suck him, but he made sure he pulled out before coming. Ian looked up at him, confusion in his eyes.

"I have something new for you, but not until after breakfast. I want Raisin Bran with skim milk. You may have a waffle. Wait for me."

"Yes sir."

Mickey waited until Ian padded off for the kitchen before taking out the harness.

During breakfast, Ian helped Mickey run lines. Mickey sighed. Ian would make a hell of a better co-star than Brad.

"Go to the bedroom, but don't get dressed. I want you bent over the bed, face in the mattress."

Ian's heartbeat quickened. "Yes sir."

Mickey cleared away the dishes and walked to the bedroom. Ian was obediently bent over the bed, beautiful ass in the air. Mickey walked over and kicked his feet further apart. He ran his fingers up and down Ian's ass crack, triggering his lubrication.

"As you may recall, you had a little trouble remembering the rules last week. I told you we would try something stronger to help you."

Ian felt dizzy as sexual desire and submission rushed to his head. Mickey was still running his fingers up and down and around his ass, but not entering his hole. Ian braced himself.

Mickey entered him without warning. Rough, hard and fast. He pressed one hand down onto Ian's back and fucked into him even harder. Ian closed his eyes and grunted at every push. Mickey was groaning and mumbling incoherently. Oh, how he loved Ian's ass. He could get lost in Ian's ass all day.

He came with a loud groan, filling Ian's ass completely. He quickly grabbed a harness with a huge butt plug and slid it in. Ian wailed at the large intrusion into his sore hole. Mickey stood him up and locked the harness into place before locking Ian's cock in a new cage that held his balls as well as his dick.

Mickey stepped back and admired his work. "Walk across the room."

Ian slowly walked across the room. Holy hot hell. His ass felt tight and full and his cock was struggling inside the cage. He felt incredibly turned on from being plugged and locked up with his master's cum inside him. He felt owned. He fell to his knees at Mickey's feet.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you"

Mickey grinned. "You thank me now, but let's see how you feel around 2:00 pm." Ian smiled up at him.

Oh, he knew how he would feel by 2:00 pm. The sexual torture would be killing him.

He couldn't wait.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **PARIS**

Tristan stood in the doorway of the bedroom, tears rolling down his face as he watched Kash throwing his clothes into a suitcase.

"Kash...please...please don't do this to me. Please."

Kash ignored him. He walked into the bathroom and returned a moment later with Tristan's shampoo, aftershave and lotions. He was about to throw it into the suitcase but hesitated.

"Actually, you can't take over two ounces of liquid on a plane." He turned and dumped everything into a garbage can.

Tristan's sobs grew louder as his tears rolled faster.

"Please Kash! Don't do this to me! Why are you doing this to me? I love you!"

Kash yanked open a drawer and scooped up all the underwear and socks. He threw them in the suitcase.

Tristan screamed,"I love you!"

Kash looked at him, his eyes cold and unemotional.

"But you see Tristan, I don't love you."

Tristan shook his head furiously. "No! No! I don't believe that! That's not true! That's not true!"

Kash shrugged. He zipped up the suitcase, walked over to his desk and took out a plane ticket.

"This is a one-way, first class ticket to New York. Your flight leaves at 2:00 pm. John will take you to the airport."

"No!" Tristan screamed. He threw himself at Kash's feet, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"Please...please...don't do this to me. Please...I love you...I've been a good slave to you...please don't unclaim me. Please!"

Kash stared down into Tristan's eyes. He grabbed his long black hair and pulled his head back.

"I. Don't. Want. You. Any. More."

And with a quick, graceful movement, he unsnapped the collar from Tristan's neck. Tristan screamed.

"No! No! Please! Please! I'll do anything! Anything! Please!"

Kash tried to free himself from Tristan's grip around his legs, but Tristan tightened his hold.

"Let go."

"No! Please Kash! Pleeeeease!"

Kash reached down and yanked Tristan's head back once more. He slapped him across the face. Tristan cried out and sank to the floor, releasing Kash's legs. Kash stepped over him and walked to a painting on the wall. He slid the painting aside revealing a wall safe. He opened it and pulled out a stack of cash and a pair of keys. He locked the safe and turned around. Tristan was lying on the floor, crying. Kash stood over him and dropped the cash and the keys on the floor.

"That should take care of you until you decide what you want to do. The keys are to the spare apartment in Tribeca. You can stay there for six months."

Tristan glared up at him, anger finally replacing the hurt.

"What I want to do? What am I supposed to do? I'm a slave! I'm supposed to have a master! You're my master!"

Kash picked up the gold collar he'd just removed from Tristan.

"Not anymore."

He tossed it in the trash.

"I have an appointment. I suggest you leave now for your flight. Goodbye Tristan."

Kash walked towards the door.

"It's him, isn't it?"

Kash stopped, but didn't turn around.

"It is. It's that slave you wanted in high school. The one that didn't want you. You can't let go."

Kash turned around. Tristan flinched at the fury in his eyes.

"This has nothing to do with him. I just don't want you anymore. You're ugly, Tristan and fucking you is boring. I never should have claimed you. I never really wanted you, and I certainly never loved you."

Tears streamed down Tristan's face as he slowly shook his head. "That's not true. None of that is true. You did love me. You do love me."

"Tell yourself whatever lies you need to. Just get the fuck out."

Kash left, slamming the door behind him.

Tristan collapsed into a pile of tears and physical pain. His collar was gone and Kash had left his presence. The pain of being released started as a slow burn in the submissive core of his brain. It would grow and spread, infecting his mind, his heart, and his bones. The next 24-hours were going to be hell.

Tristan lay on the floor for another ten minutes before forcing himself to stand. He looked down at the cash and keys lying on the floor. He didn't want to take it. Taking it would be saying he agreed and accepted what Kash was doing to him, and that wasn't true, but he had no choice. He had no money of his own, and he needed a place to stay until he found another master. The thought of another master made his skin crawl. He'd been with Kash for three years. He loved Kash and he'd always believed Kash loved him. He thought they would be together forever.

The thought made the tears start again. He stood there crying until the door opened. It was the house manager and chauffer, John.

"I'm sorry, Tristan, but I really must insist that we leave now. Mr. K would not appreciate you missing your flight."

"Why...why is he doing this to me?"

John looked genuinely sympathetic. He wished he had an answer, but he didn't. At least not one he could share.

"I am sorry, Tristan. I can't answer that, but we really must be going."

"Can't answer, or won't?"

"Can't. I'll take your bag."

John took the suitcase off the bed and left. Tristan stood there staring at the cash and keys on the floor.

He bent down and picked up both.

He looked in the garbage can and tried to pick up the collar, but it burned his fingers. He tried several times before accepting that he wouldn't be able to touch it. The dark magic of masters.

He left.

* * *

 **NEW YORK**

Monica drummed her red, perfectly manicured nails on the table. No one was telling her what she wanted to hear and she was furious.

"Are you absolutely positive, Alan?"

Alan nodded. "Yes. Absolutely."

"And we can't cut costs anywhere else?"

"Monica...it's an expansion, not a scale back. Either you go big, or don't even plan on going."

Monica stood up angrily and stalked over to the window. She folded her arms and stared out at the New York skyline. The men in the room took this opportunity to check out her perfect shaped ass.

"So, there's nothing we can do?"

Alan shot looks at everyone in the room. Some looked away, others shook their head at him. Alan decided to forge ahead. It was what he was paid to do.

"We can always go public. I've run the numbers and I think we can get at least $92 for an initial..."

Monica spun around, her face twisted in anger.

"No! I am not taking this company public! The last thing I want is to have to answer to whinny, nosy ass shareholders. It's out of the question!"

"Monica...you're being unreasonable. Either we use your cash reserves or we go public. Those are your two choices."

Monica shook her head. "No. First rule of staying rich, use someone else's money, never your own. And I'm not going public."

Alan sat back. Jim took over.

"Look, I've reviewed the reserve numbers. You can afford to do this, Monica. You have the money. Yes, it will drain your cash, but not all of it. You'll still be okay."

"I'm not interested in being okay. I'm not using anymore of the company's money than what we have already allocated."

They all sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally Jim spoke.

"Okay. You don't want shareholders. Fine. What about an investor? A silent partner who will give you the cash, but stay out of the day-to-day decisions."

Monica shook her head. "Never again. I've done that before, remember? By the time I got untangled from Donald Starr, I was tempted to just give him the damn Carolina companies. That was a nightmare. No more partners."

Alan opened his mouth to speak, but Monica shot him an evil look and put up her hand. "If you even breathe the words, borrow from a bank, I will fire you."

Alan shut his mouth.

Jim sighed in annoyance. "So you're looking for someone who will simply give you the cash because...why? Because you're hot? Good luck."

Monica rolled her eyes, but started thinking.

Someone who would simply give her the cash.

A friend who would give her the cash.

A friend with that kind of cash.

"Everyone get out."

The men cleared out. Monica picked up the phone.

"Sara? Get me Michael K.

* * *

Burt studied the report his legislative and policy analyst, Quinn Fabray had put together. He'd been studying it all morning, hoping the numbers and figures would change. They hadn't.

Damn it.

He stood up and poked his head out of his office. "Quinn? Can you come in for a minute?"

Quinn came in and sat down. Halfway through pulling the numbers, she knew Burt was going to be disappointed.

"Yes?"

Burt held up the papers. "You're sure? Absolutely sure?"

Quinn nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry, Burt. I know you were hoping for a different outcome, but the numbers don't lie. I used the latest data from the Ramsey economic forecast and even ran it by a few friends in Columbus. The economic impact is unmistakable. A few select companies will do very, very well, but the rest...the rest will be driven out, thus the job loss numbers."

Burt sat down and rubbed his fingers across his forehead. There was no way he could support this type of legislation, much less encourage anyone else to.

Quinn watched Burt's inner turmoil play out on his face. She decided to confirm her thoughts. After all, it's not like it was a secret, at least not among the staff.

"Is this about Ramken Industries?"

Burt looked at her in surprise. He shook his head.

"Not exactly. Monica Ramken did ask me to keep an open mind about the bill, and I noticed that they are one of the companies that would benefit, but the idea actually came from Senator Nick Rife. I can't imagine why he thinks this is a good idea. I don't understand people. You can make money and be profitable without crushing everyone else in the process."

Burt sat back, his mind made up. "I'm not supporting this. I can't."

Quinn nodded. It was the right thing to do, and Burt always tried to do the right thing. That was why she decided to work for him after graduating from Yale. While she and Mickey had never been close, she admired his father. He was a good man and an honest politician.

Well...most of the time.

She stood up and walked towards the door. She turned before leaving.

"I'm sure Monica will understand."

Burt nodded and glanced at the photo on his desk of Mickey and Ian, arms around each other, smiling happily. He hoped the boys always stayed that way.

Happy.

* * *

Ian was happy.

So very, very happy. Mickey was screwing happiness into him with every thrust of his hips.

Ian was lying face down, ass in the air on the fucking table. Well, that's what he and Seth secretly called it. When he ordered it, Mickey told Ian it was simply a lovely piece of furniture, covered in beautiful brown, soft leather, with metal enhancements. During a visit, Seth took one look at it and squealed.

"Oooh! A fucking table! Excellent!"

"A what?"

"A fucking table. We have one too, but Chandler's is larger and has more attachments."

Ian was confused. "What are you talking about? That's not a...fucking table."

"Then what is it?"

"Just a piece of furniture. Mickey bought it last week. It's pretty."

Seth grinned. "Oh, it's pretty alright. And you are going to look very, very pretty when your master bolts you down to it and fucks your very pretty ass like there's no tomorrow. Chandler practically loses his mind when I'm chained to that thing. Just you wait."

Seth couldn't have been more correct.

The table was adjustable so a master could set it at the perfect height to fuck their slave. Once the height was correct, Mickey ordered Ian up onto the table, on his knees, chest down, ass in the air, head turned to the side, hand and arms lying flat, slightly above his head. Mickey bolted Ian's neck and wrists down with metal bars that were attached to the table. Ian could move his head just enough to switch which cheek was pressed flat to the table, but he couldn't lift his head. There were metal bolts to lock down his legs across his calves, as well as his ankles. Everything was tight and left Ian completely immobile, spread open and ready for Mickey's cock. His ass was wet and dripping as the lubricating function in his body worked overtime in response to his thoughts. He was experiencing a completely new level of being turned on. He couldn't wait for Mickey to fuck him. He wanted Mickey to tear his ass apart.

And Mickey intended to.

Eventually.

Mickey ran his hands down Ian's back and over his ass.

"You have such a great ass, Ian. It's so tight and firm and cute. I love touching it. And you look so damn good in jeans."

Ian moaned as Mickey ran the palm of his hand all over his ass before sliding his fingers in and out of his hole. Ian cried out and strained against the bars. The fact that they were metal bars was doing all sorts of things to his head.

"Please sir, fuck me."

"Not yet horny boy. I'm going to put a roast in the oven. You stay here."

Mickey went to the kitchen, leaving Ian to moan and sweat in anticipation. He almost wished Mickey had placed a butt plug in his ass. Lying there, spread open and empty...waiting for Mickey's thick cock to plunge inside him...

Ian groaned. "Ohhhh, master. Master...please..."

His submission swirled inside him, wanting and hungry.

Mickey took his time preparing the roast. Chopping vegetables, seasoning and browning the meat, debating side dishes. He drew out the process, allowing Ian to suffer for as long as possible. Sexual suffering and punishment fed Ian's submission and Mickey always made sure Ian was well fed.

Ian had succumbed to making a low and constant moaning sound. His ass was ridiculously wet, and the dripping was torture.

Mickey was quiet as a cat. Ian never heard him coming.

He screamed when Mickey's cock slammed into him, pounding his ass with strong, hard thrusts. Being bolted down intensified everything. Ian continued screaming and gasping as Mickey hammered into him, harder and harder. Mickey loved the sounds Ian made. He was so deliciously loud.

Mickey kept him trapped on the table for almost three hours, fucking him in-between preparing dinner and tidying up. When he finally released him, Ian slid off the table and on to the floor. Mickey pushed him down on to his back.

"You may come, my love."

Mickey licked his own cum from Ian's ass before sucking down his cock just as Ian exploded with a yell. Mickey mixed their cum together in his mouth. Mmmm. They really were meant to be together.

Ian lay on his back in exhaustion while Mickey ran a bath.

"Come Ian."

Ian crawled to the bathroom. Mickey lovingly washed him before helping him out, wrapping him in a large, soft towel.

"Hungry?" Ian nodded. Yes, he was hungry. And sleepy.

Mickey dressed him in boxers and a t-shirt and put him in bed. He fixed two dinner trays and brought them to the bedroom. Ian grinned happily.

"Dinner in bed?"

"Dinner in bed."

Mickey pulled out the first (or fourth) Star Wars movie and popped it into the DVR. They ate, placed the trays on the floor and snuggled in to watch the movie. Mickey smiled when he heard Ian snoring before Luke and Obi-Wan-Kenobi found Han Solo and Chewbacca in the bar.

Mickey kissed the top of Ian's head before carefully sliding out of bed. He took their dishes to the kitchen, took a shower and slid back into bed. He watched Ian sleep for a few minutes before pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him. Ian sighed in his sleep and curled into Mickey. Mickey closed his eyes and drifted off into a warm, happy sleep of his own.

* * *

Kaden smiled as he heard the door of his apartment open and close.

"Kay?"

"In here."

Jake strolled into the kitchen and sniffed the air. "Mmmm. Smells delicious." He pulled Kaden to him and kissed him. Kaden melted and fought not to fall to his knees. Jake smiled at him. "Let me wash up and then we'll eat."

Kaden set the table, complete with candles. He prepared their plates and laid out the food. Jake walked in and sat down. Kaden watched as he took his first bite.

"Fabulous. Absolutely delicious, babe." Kaden grinned as his heart raced with joy at the approval.

Kaden listened to Jake tell him all about his day at the insurance company where he was a director. After dinner, Jake watched Kaden clean up. When he was done, they settled on the living room couch.

"So, have you told your friend Ian about us?"

Kaden shook his head. "No. Not yet. I plan to. I was just waiting until..." He didn't want to say until you claim me. He didn't want to push. It had only been a little over a month.

"I just thought I would wait awhile. It's nice having a special secret."

Jake nodded in approval. "I agree with you. There's no hurry."

Jake waited a few minutes before continuing. "Is your friend Ian happy with his master?"

"Mm hmm. Definitely. He and Mickey are amazing. I've always told Ian how lucky he is. Mickey loves him so much and he's a really good master."

"You know...Ian's family is very wealthy."

Kaden didn't know how to respond to that. "Um...I guess. I don't really know much about his family. He never talks about them."

"He's not close to this family?"

"I don't think so."

"Is that because of Mickey?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does Mickey keep Ian away from his family?"

"Oh, I don't think so. I don't think they were ever close. Why?"

"Just curious."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Kash stared at the blueprints in front of him, his mind working at lightning speed as he recalculated the precise measurements in his head. He studied the architect's report and decided everything was correct. He felt good about this project. Everything should run on time.

His thoughts were interrupted by his assistant.

"Yes?"

"Royce is here."

"All right. Send him in."

Royce Gallagher slithered into Kash's office, a wicked grin on his face.

"Tell me, do you think your assistant would let me tap that ass?"

Kash rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure she's claimed."

Royce smirked. "That wasn't my question."

He sat down in a chair and propped his feet up on the desk, ignoring Kash's frown. "So, what's up with you? Where you been? I figured that once you got rid of Tristan you'd be tearing the free clubs apart."

Kash shook his head in disgust. "You know I don't like free clubs. Horny masters, desperate slaves, everyone looking to get laid. Where's the challenge in that?"

Royce scoffed. "Challenge? Screw being challenged. Fucking someone is not worth going to jail over. I seriously suggest you stop screwing around with slaves who are looking to get claimed before you end up in a ministry jail."

"First, you're one to talk, and second, I'm not screwing around with anybody."

"Sure you aren't. Speaking of screwing people, have you heard from Tristan?"

Kash shook his head and looked out the window.

Royce placed his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair. "Matt thought he saw him at one of the clubs in New York City."

"What? What kind of club?"

"A free club, of course. What other kind is there for unclaimed slaves? What did you think he would do once you got rid of him? Previously claimed slaves can't last long without a good dominating fuck. It's been over a month. I'm sure he's hungry." Royce smiled evilly as he watched Kash's eyes fill with concern.

"I tell ya what, Bass? I'd be happy to fly to New York and take care of him for you. I always found his long hair very sexy. I can only imagine how good it would be to fuck him while pulling his hair. I bet he screams like a girl, which given my tastes, I would greatly enjoy."

Royce cracked up laughing at Kash's hateful glare.

"That won't be necessary." Kash stood up and walked to the window. Tristan was visiting free clubs?

"Tell me something? Why did you unclaim Tristan in the first place? I thought you were in love and shit."

Kash didn't turn around. "I have my sights set on something better. Someone better."

Royce was intrigued. "Really? Who?"

Kash turned back around and smiled sweetly. "Oh, someone way too good for you."

"If he's too good for me, then he's too good for you. Wait...you're not finally embracing your bisexual side, are you? Is it a girl?"

Kash rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're the one that swings both ways, not me. I only like dick."

"Your loss. Being bisexual has outstanding advantages. Twice the number of slaves. As a matter of fact, I've been thinking about seeing if there's a way to make it legal to claim two slaves. I'd like to have both a guy and a girl. I'm being horribly discriminated against under the current rules. It's an injustice."

Kash shook his head. Right. As if Royce would ever claim someone.

Kash and Royce had been friends since college. Royce was the epitome of an Abercrombie and Fitch model. Tight, firm body, gorgeous face and jawline all framed by beautiful dark brown hair. He was decidedly bisexual and a pure playboy. He had no interest in working or claiming anyone. Instead he lived to screw slaves, but unlike Kash he was careful, mostly screwing slaves who hung out at the free clubs.

Despite all the rules and regulations of the Masters Ministry, free clubs operated out in the open with little fear of repercussion. The clubs were places where masters could meet slaves who were willing to have sex, no strings attached, no claim expected. These were slaves who had been released from their masters for some reason, or had never been claimed. The slaves were desperate to be dominated, leaving them at the mercy of masters. Most ended up abused, shattered and broken, their minds slowly destroyed by the recurring submission to a master with no claim made. While the Ministry claimed disapproval and insisted they were working to eradicate the clubs, no one could remember a club ever being raided or shut down.

Royce stood up. "Are we going to lunch, or what? I'm hungry."

"Yeah. Give me five minutes."

"I'll be out here talking to your assistant. Maybe she'll let me hit it tonight." Royce grinned and walked out.

Kash closed the door of his office and picked up his cell phone. He scrolled down until Tristan's face appeared on screen. He stared at it for a minute before pushing call. The voice mail came on.

 _This is Tristan_

 _Right now I can't listen_

 _Leave me a message_

" _Um, Tristan...this is Kash. Uh...I...look, don't go to the free clubs, okay? Just...if you need money, call me, but...don't go to the clubs. Just don't."_

* * *

Ian looked at Kaden in total surprise.

"Really? For how long?"

Kaden couldn't keep his secret anymore.

"It'll be two months on Friday!" His face was glowing with excitement and happiness. "And he's not a bad guy, Ian. Really, he's not. He's really nice to me and he has a good job at an insurance company, and he isn't pushy or anything."

Ian smiled and nodded. Maybe his instincts had been wrong. "That's great, Kaden. I'm really glad I was wrong about him. It's nice to see you happy. Just...be careful, okay? Don't rush things." Kaden nodded.

"I know. I am. I won't. Listen, what are you and Mickey doing Friday night? Maybe we could all go to dinner and then you could meet him and see how nice he is."

"Sure. I'll ask Mickey."

"I thought we'd agreed to wait a while before telling Ian."

Jake was irritated. Kaden didn't understand why.

"I know, but I was just so excited. I always have to listen to his stories about him and Mickey. It's nice to have stories of my own."

"Well we can't have dinner with them on Friday. We already have plans."

"We do?"

"Yeah. We're meeting a friend of mine."

"Oh, okay. Well maybe Saturday..."

"Look Kay, it doesn't have to happen this weekend. Just relax."

Kaden's eyes fell to the floor. Jake wrapped his arms around him.

"Listen, I'm not going anywhere, okay? There will be plenty of time for me to meet your friends." He guided Kaden's head to his chest and tightened his hold around him.

Ohhhh...

To be held close by a master.

Kaden closed his eyes and inhaled Jake's scent. It was all like a drug. Kaden clung to him, never wanting the feeling to end. Jake slowly backed them towards the wall and pressed his body into Kaden. Kaden fell apart, his knees buckling under him. Jake kept him standing and pressed harder as he whispered in his ear.

"Don't worry, babe. I'm not going anywhere. Just be a good boy and do what I tell you, okay? If you're a good boy and follow my rules, maybe I'll claim you soon. Would you like that?"

A claim?

Jake would claim him?

Kaden nodded, his eyes wide with submission and desperation. "Yes. Yes, please."

Jake chuckled and smiled. "Then you need to be a good boy, Kay. You need to follow my rules and do what I tell you. Prove to me that I should claim you."

Kaden nodded.

Yes. He would do anything Jake wanted.

Absolutely anything.

* * *

It was 5:00 am Saturday morning and Mickey and Ian were in bed. Ian snuggled deeper into the warm cocoon of Mickey's body. Ian was lying on top of Mickey who had his long legs and arms wrapped tightly around Ian's body while Ian's head rested on Mickey's chest. Mickey was gently pressing Ian's purr spot causing Ian to purr loudly, his entire body softly vibrating.

Nurturing time.

Designed to instill deep comfort within a slave, nurturing time was a non-sexual way of deepening a slave's submission and tightening the master-slave bond. According to the articles Mickey had read on slave care, he was only supposed to do this for one hour, twice a month.

He did it for one hour, twice a week or more.

He loved holding Ian and listening to him purr and sigh contentedly. It also helped maintain the careful balance Mickey had created between helping Ian grow stronger, yet remain completely submissive to him. Ian would never be able to completely abandon his submissiveness, but Mickey was determined to keep him strong enough not to drown within it.

Except for him, of course.

Ian whined when Mickey finally untangled their bodies, but his whines quickly turned to moans when Mickey rolled them over and nudged Ian's legs apart. Mickey stared into Ian's eyes as he pressed forward and slowly slid inside Ian's ass. They never broke eye contact as Mickey slowly stroked in and out. They came quietly with soft groans and tiny cries of pleasure. Ian returned to the warm cocoon of Mickey's arms and they lay in silence for awhile.

"What would have happened to me if you had never come to Dalton?"

"I would have found you...eventually."

"Really, sir? You really think so?"

"Absolutely."

"You sound so sure."

"Because I am. I would have found you."

Ian smiled. Okay. That was good enough for him. If Mickey said it, it must be true.

"How much longer can we stay in bed?"

Mickey glanced at the clock. "We have a few hours. Wes and Carmen won't be here until 11:00 am."

Wes and his slave Carmen were coming for a visit. Wes attended the University of Chicago and enjoyed himself so much, he decided to make Chicago his permanent home. He met Carmen on his very first day of class. She was beautiful with skin the same complexion as Wes, and long thick black hair. She reminded Mickey of Santana but with a far sweeter disposition. At her parent's request, Wes waited until they both graduated before claiming her which meant four years of waiting to have sex. Mickey was in awe of Wes's control. He was sure a lesser man would have cracked.

The four had a great time, laughing and catching up over lunch. Wes was especially amazed by Ian. It had been a few years since he'd seen him. He was shocked by the change. Gone was the frightened slave he used to protect, replaced by a slightly taller, strong young man who didn't appear scared of anyone.

While Ian and Carmen cleaned up, Mickey and Wes hung out in the Broadway Room.

"I can't get over Ian. What have you been doing to him?"

Mickey smiled with pride. "Whatever do you mean?"

"He's so...strong...confident...alive. He looks the way he used to on stage, except now it's a permanent condition. He looks great, Mickey. You're obviously good for him. Good to him. Hell, you're incredible."

Mickey's smile widened. He was proud of Ian and of himself. He took pride in being a good master, but more than that, he was proud of their relationship. Their love was as strong as their master-slave bond and the love meant more to Mickey than anything else. He craved Ian's submission and the control he exerted over him, but more than anything he loved their love.

"Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

"Well it's true. I'm so glad Ian is with you. I was really scared his mom would give him to Kash or some other rich asshole all in the name of good business."

Kash.

Mickey hadn't thought about Kash in years.

"Whatever happened to him?"

"According to the rumor mill..." Wes lowered his voice, "he raped a few slaves. I mean, sure they probably agreed to the sex, but you know how that works. Of course they agreed. They thought they were going to be claimed. Naturally his father wrote a check to make the accusations disappear. Last I heard, he moved to Paris and finally claimed someone."

Mickey looked disgusted. "Good. It's nice to know he's not on American soil, but I feel sorry for the French."

Wes laughed. "Hey, listen. I wanted to ask you something. Actually, for something." Wes's expression suddenly turned sheepish.

"Um...well, it's kinda early to be bringing this up, but...well...um...you see...we...uh...well, Carmen and I...um..."

Mickey was amused. Wes was always so sure of himself and in full control. He'd never seen this nervous, slightly embarrassed Wes.

"Um..Carmen and I...we're...well, we've decided to try and have a baby."

Mickey squealed. "Oh! Wes! That's wonderful!"

Wes blushed. "Yeah, well...we'll see. I mean, we just started so it might be awhile. I don't know, but...I wanted to know if you and Ian would be the baby's Godparents along with David. Three Godfathers. If we have a girl, she's going to kill me for this."

Mickey's eyes welled up with tears. "Oh, Wes. Yes. Yes, of course. We would be so honored."

Wes nodded. "Okay. Like I said, we're kinda putting the cart before the horse, but we wanted you to know and we wanted to know if you were in, if and when it happens."

Mickey clapped his hands and bounced on his toes. "Absolutely. We are totally in. This will be the best dressed, most stylish baby ever."

The four spent the rest of the day shopping and exploring the city. That evening, Rachel and Finn, Chandler and Seth joined them for a night of dinner and dancing. Ian tried calling Kaden a few times to invite him and Jake to join them, but Kaden never answered and didn't return Ian's voice message.

* * *

Mickey walked into rehearsal on Monday determined to move into act two. They had several months until the show was scheduled to open, but Mickey was feeling antsy. He was sick of going over the same lines, plus he wanted to move on to full rehearsals with the choreography. Brad needed to get his act together.

Mickey said good morning to everyone, put down his bag and started doing a few relaxation stretches.

Kevin the director came over. "Hey Mickey. I need to talk to you for a minute."

Mickey sighed and prepared himself for more script changes.

"How many pages?"

"Huh?"

"How many pages are we changing?"

"Oh, no, no. No script changes. This is about Ian."

Mickey's entire demeanor and body stance changed. Kevin laughed as he watched the transformation into Protective Dom Master Mickey.

"Relax. This is good news. A friend of mine is consulting on the show with that talented nightmare friend of yours, Rachel Berry. He heard the song Ian wrote and was wondering if he could have your permission to see if Ian would like to help write an entire musical from scratch. He's already started on the book, but he's only one or two scenes in. He'd love to have a writing partner."

Mickey practically jumped for joy. A musical from scratch? An entire show? Ian would love this.

"He was worried about Ian being a slave, but I told him that you were really great about letting him work and stuff. If it's okay with you, and assuming they hit it off, he'd love to work with him. What do you think?"

"I think I forgive you for casting Brad opposite me. This...this is amazing, Kevin! Ian will love this. It's his dream to write a full musical. Thank you!"

"Don't thank me, I'm just making the connection. His name is Rick Daniels. I'll text you his information and the two of you can set up a meeting."

Mickey was so thrilled that he was extra patient with Brad and they actually made it through all of act one with no mistakes. Kevin was delighted.

"See, Mickey? He's not bad, I just think you intimidate him. The nicer you are, the better he performs."

"How can he be intimidated by me after all this time? I'm not that scary."

"Sure you aren't. You have no idea what your facial expressions can do to a person. They're like knives."

Mickey arched and eyebrow and made a fierce face. Kevin laughed.

"That's what I'm talking about."

I&M&M&I

"Seriously? An entire show? From scratch? With my music?"

Ian was staring at Mickey, his eyes full of excitement.

"Yes, an entire show. Naturally you two need to meet first and make sure you click, but assuming you hit it off, he'd like to work with you."

Ian closed his eyes. An entire show with music by him. He'd always dreamed of this. His head was full of melodies and lyrics in search of a good story. This would be fantastic.

He jumped up and threw his arms around Mickey's neck sending him backwards.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Mickey laughed. "Okay, okay. You're welcome, but Ian, you have to meet him first. You guys might not get along." Mickey knew there was slim chance of that happening. Ian was too sweet and nice for someone not to like him. This made Mickey think of something else. Assuming Rick was a master, did he have a slave? Was he gay? Mickey would have to check on that, especially if he and Ian would be spending a lot of time together alone.

* * *

Kash fidgeted in his chair. He hated visits by his parents. Why the hell did they have to come check on him anyway? He was an adult, not a teenager. He was sure he knew why they were there and as far as he was concerned, it was none of their business.

His father wasted no time.

"All right. Will you please explain to me what the hell happened to Tristan?"

Kash shrugged. "We just weren't happy."

"What do you mean, we just weren't happy? He's a slave. Of course he was happy, and he was good for you."

Anna joined in. "And so beautiful, too. That beautiful hair and smooth, brown skin. You two made a lovely couple."

"Fine. I wasn't happy. I didn't want him anymore."

Michael shook his head. "Oh, nice. That's just fucking great. You got bored so you decided to get rid of a loyal, perfectly good slave who adored you. I just don't get it, Kash. For every two steps you take towards maturity in business, you take three steps back in your personal life. Well consider this your warning. You start screwing around with slaves again, I will not protect you. Do you hear me? I mean it. You're on your own when it comes to the repercussions of your asinine behavior. You start rap...fooling around with slaves again, I will let the Ministry have you and I mean it."

Kash scowled. "Why are you yelling at me? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"And you've barely done anything right! I thought you were finally getting your act together. Your work has been very good. Excellent actually, but you need to settle down. You need to claim a slave and settle down. For good. It's time for you to grow up."

Anna took his hand. "Darling, is there someone else? Another slave you want to claim? Is that why you ended things with Tristan?"

Kash looked between his parents.

"As a matter of fact...there is someone else."

* * *

Monica watched Michael looking over the documents. She was highly annoyed because it was totally unnecessary. The documents had been sent to his lawyers over a month ago. Everything had been studied, scrutinized and calculated to the final penny. Today's meeting was simply a courtesy.

"Well, Monica, you continue to be one of the brightest business minds of our generation. This is a hell of an expansion you've planned."

"Thank you. I appreciate your helping to make it all happen. Are you sure you don't want me to repay you? I'll be happy to once the project is settled."

Michael waved away her comment and stood up to fix a drink. "Not necessary. I'm happy to help a friend. Drink?"

"Yes, whatever you're having is fine. I appreciate your generosity."

Michael handed her a glass and watched as she took a sip. As a master, he felt absolutely no sexual attraction to Monica, but he definitely appreciated her beauty. Olive skin, high cheek bones, thick black hair and a perfect figure. Too bad she wasn't a slave. It would be nice to feel something for her sexually. And act on it.

"Tell me, how's your son?"

"Lip is wonderful. He's done an outstanding job in Michigan and I plan to put him in charge of the European operation as soon as things are settled."

"Actually, I was asking about Ian."

Monica blinked. She almost said, who? "Ian? I suppose he's fine. He's somewhere in New York with his master."

"Is he happy?"

"I really couldn't say."

Michael sat down on the loveseat and patted the spot next to him. Monica sat.

"I haven't signed off on the transfer of funds yet."

Monica narrowed her eyes. "You haven't?"

"No. There's one final thing I'd like to discuss as part of our deal."

* * *

Mickey ran his eyes up and down Rick Daniels and tried to hide his horror at the man's outfit. Green pants, a bright red shirt, a purple and white polka-dot ascot and a blue baseball hat. No. This man was not gay. Couldn't be.

"Mickey, Ian, a pleasure to meet you. Especially you, Ian. You're a hell of a lyricist."

"Thanks." Ian grinned, his eyes bright and happy. He'd been bouncing off the walls all morning in anticipation of the meeting. Mickey had threatened to lock him in his cage if he didn't calm down, but he was actually just as excited. He'd promised himself back in high school that he would never stifle Ian's talent or creativity. This opportunity made Mickey feel like he was fully completing that promise.

"All right, let me tell you the story. Well the story so far."

Rick launched into his idea for a coming-of-age story about a boy he was calling John for now, who falls for a beautiful girl who gets kidnapped by an evil prince. The story would be the adventures John has while searching for the girl. Mickey thought it sounded more like a movie than a musical, but he kept his thoughts to himself and listened as Ian and Rick started excitedly bouncing thoughts and ideas off of each other. Their enthusiasm was infectious and soon Mickey was laughing and throwing in the occasional suggestion, much to Ian's delight. Why hadn't he and Mickey ever thought to write a show together?

The three did not notice the pale man with greasy black hair watching them.

Ian excused himself to use the restroom. As he stood at a urinal, the pale man entered the bathroom. He stood in front of a urinal, two down from Ian. He glanced over as Ian finished and zipped his pants.

"A collar and bracelets. A bit paranoid."

Ian looked at him. Yes, some considered it overkill, but Mickey felt they were necessary given Ian's deep submissiveness at the time of his claiming. While Ian was much stronger now, neither saw a reason to remove the bracelets. Mickey liked having Ian overly identified as his slave, and the bracelets made Ian feel safe and owned. He felt loved that his master found him worthy of not just one, but three signs of ownership.

"I prefer to think of it as clarity. I'm clearly claimed and very loved."

"Are you, now? Loved, I mean?"

Ian narrowed his eyes. "Yes. My master loves me very much."

Ian washed his hands. The man finished his business and looked at Ian.

"Well I hope that's truly the case. Slave abuse is a growing problem."

Ian shook his head. "I'm not abused. I've never been abused." Except by my mother.

The man grinned but it wasn't warm or happy. It was a little frightening.

"Well if you ever are abused, you be sure to tell the Masters Ministry. They'll protect you. Better to tell the Ministry than to run away and be hunted by the trackers."

Ian quickly moved to the door.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks."

That was weird.

When he returned to the table, he didn't bother to tell Mickey about his strange encounter in the bathroom. It didn't really matter. Just some random stranger. He dove back into conversation around the musical.

He didn't mention it until that evening.

Mickey thought the entire thing was strange, but he was more concerned that Ian had waited to tell him.

"You should have told me immediately. I would have confronted him."

"That's why I didn't say anything. It wasn't necessary to confront him. He was just some weird guy."

"Since when do you decide what's necessary?"

Ohhh...

Ian slowly sank to the floor as Mickey's dominance rippled over and through him.

"I'm your master. I decide what's necessary when it comes to your care. Not you."

"Yes sir."

"Stand, remove your clothes, and then return to your knees."

Ian quickly removed his clothes and fell to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor. He could hear Mickey opening and closing drawers. With every passing moment, his dick grew harder, his ass wetter and his mind more submissive, begging for punishment.

Ian flinched, but did not sit up when he felt the tip of the riding crop tickling down his back and in-between his butt cheeks.

"Remain still."

Ian froze as Mickey continued to trail the crop up and down his back, going a bit lower each time. Ian held his breath as he waited to feel the tip press against his hole. Mickey dragged it across slowly, teasingly. He did this for several minutes but never entered. Ian was shaking in anticipation, but suddenly the crop was gone.

"You may rise to your knees."

Ian rose up and inhaled deeply as he saw the beautiful vision of Mickey before him. Mickey had changed into what Ian called his cat woman outfit. The vest and pants were black, tight and sexy as hell. The vest accentuated Mickey's beautiful, muscular arms, while the pants showed off his perfect ass and large dick. Ian couldn't help but stare. Mickey smiled, pleased with Ian's obvious enjoyment of the outfit. It was one of Mickey's favorites as well.

"Where are your eyes, Ian?"

Ian quickly lowered his gaze to the ground.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful, sir."

"Thank you. Crawl over to the wall."

Ian crawled to the wall and stopped.

"Stand and assume the position."

Ian stood up, pressed his back against the wall, and spread his arms and legs into an X. Mickey chained him to the wall.

"It's important that you not fall back into the well of submissiveness you wallowed in for so long, however I can't have you...growing a pair and forgetting your place and my rules."

Ian swallowed and closed his eyes. His dick grew hard as he prepared for what was coming.

"Why am I punishing you, Ian?"

"Because I should have told you immediately about the man in the bathroom."

"That's right, my love. You should have told me immediately, but instead you decided to determine the best way for me to take care of you. Not acceptable."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"Do you want to be punished, Ian? Do you deserve to be punished?"

Ian's voice cracked with desperation. "Yes, please. Please punish me, master. I submit to you and beg for punishment. Please."

"Very well. As you wish."

Ian's body trembled as he watched Mickey pick up the ball press. He groaned as Mickey fitted the device over his cock and placed his balls between the two acrylic plates. Mickey smiled wickedly.

"You may not come."

Ian let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes as he struggled to withstand the incredibly painful pleasure Mickey created with each tightening of the screws. Mickey continued tightening the device until Ian was groaning loudly and breathing hard, sweat running down his face. Mickey locked the screws and dropped to his knees. He wrapped his hand around Ian's cock and began to stroke.

"Open your eyes and look at me, Ian."

Ian opened his eyes and looked down into Mickey's. Mickey's eyes always turned a beautiful dark blue during punishments. Ian loved the deepness of the color and the fact that he could see both dominance and love swirling within the blue. No matter what, the love was always there.

"Who is your master, Ian?"

"You are, sir."

"And what does that mean?"

"I must submit myself to you as your obedient slave. I must honor, obey and serve you in complete and total submission."

"And what else?"

"You will care for me and protect me with your life..."

Ian stopped.

Of course. How could he forget? He definitely deserved to be punished.

Mickey was pleased to see the understanding in Ian's expression. He nodded.

"Good boy, but you still may not come."

Ian cried out as Mickey sunk his mouth down on to his throbbing cock. The firm, wet sucks drove Ian crazy, coupled with the punishing torture to his balls. He screamed and pulled at the chains as his orgasm threatened to erupt at any second.

Mickey sucked harder when Ian started begging.

"Please, sir! Please! Oh...shit...please...please let me come! Please!"

Mickey kept sucking. Ian screamed. Mickey ignored him.

Mickey kept him strung out for almost an hour, alternating between sucking his cock and just watching him suffer. The suffering was exquisite. Ian simply looked beyond gorgeous in this state.

Once Ian was thoroughly wrecked, exhausted and a complete mess of sexual desire, submission and pain, Mickey whispered the magic words.

"You may come, my love."

Ian screamed. Mickey stood back and watched his disintegration. He removed the press and unchained Ian from the wall, catching him as he fell. Mickey helped him to his cage, settled him inside, locked the door and set the timer.

As Ian slept, Mickey moisturized and thought about Ian's encounter. Surely it didn't mean anything. People were often surprised to see a slave with a collar and bracelets. Many masters chose the cheapest collar they could find, much less invest in a collar and bracelets. Mickey smiled. Ian was special. Unique. A beautifully submissive and talented man. He deserved a beautiful, custom designed collar, and bracelets, and maybe ankle shackles...

Mickey giggled to himself. Really, Mickey? Honestly.

Before climbing into bed, he checked on Ian. He was sleeping soundly, his body relaxed and peaceful, his lips slightly parted. Mickey sighed at how beautiful he looked.

"I love you. I love you more than anything and I will always protect you, my love. Just let me protect you."

* * *

"But I don't understand. Why do you want me to do this?"

Kaden was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, trying to understand what Jake was asking him to do.

"Because babe, there's a lot of money at stake. We do this and we will get paid."

"I don't wanna get paid. I just wanna be with you."

"And I want to be with you too, but I want to be with you in style. After all you've been through you deserve the best."

Kaden slid off the bed and gave Jake a sexy smile. "You are the best, Jake. You're all I want. You're all I need. I don't need money to be happy. I just want you."

"That's sweet, babe, but you deserve more than just me."

"You're better than I could have ever dreamed of. You're all I need."

Jake's eyes turned cold. "I want you to do this."

The coldness sent shivers down Kaden's spine. He lowered his eyes to the floor.

"But...you're asking me to lie. What you want me to say isn't true."

"Who cares? You don't have to worry about that. Just think of the money."

"But what about..."

Jake's voice turned as cold as his eyes and filled with dominance. "If you want me to claim you, then you need to do this. You need to obey me."

Kaden fell to his knees, his voice a whisper. "I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry." What was he doing? He was going to ruin the first good thing to happen to him in years.

Jake stared down at him as he unzipped his pants.

"It's all right, Kay. You may apologize with your mouth."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Ian and Rick turned out to be a great team. Within one month they had a significant portion of the story written along with three songs. Rick would come up with witty dialogue, and Ian would immediately answer back with a clever song lyric. The only problem they foresaw was having too many songs. Rick loved everything Ian created. Choosing what to cut was going to be hard.

They did most of their work at Mickey and Ian's place which made Mickey very happy. He liked having Ian safe at home versus Rick's place or even the studio. Despite dismissing it as simply a strange event that was par for the course when living in New York City, a tiny part of Mickey remained unnerved about Ian's bathroom encounter. His protective side couldn't help but join forces with his paranoid side, creating a tiny bubble of worry that wouldn't go away.

Ian didn't mind staying home, but he was concerned about Kaden. During Ian's final week at the studio, Kaden had returned to his quiet, nervous self after months of being happy and talkative about Jake. Ian worried about the sudden change.

"Is everything okay? He's not...doing things to you, is he?"

Kaden shook his head.

"I know you've been hoping to meet someone, but if this guy is mistreating you or making you...you know...serve him before claiming you, you don't have to put up with that. You can tell him no, Kaden. Don't let him use you just because you're lonely."

Kaden stared at the sound mixing board. "Everything's fine, Ian."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt. If you need help getting rid of him, I'm sure Mickey would be willing to..."

"Ian! It's fine! Everything's fine! I'm not stupid, okay? Now can we just finish this? You leave at the end of the week and I'd like to have things finished."

"Okay. Sorry. I was just trying to help."

Kaden glanced at him and then looked away quickly. He didn't say anything.

That evening Ian told Mickey about the conversation.

"Do you really think something's wrong? Should I do something?"

"I don't know. I didn't like the guy the first time I met him, and Kaden's so desperate, I'm worried he'll allow himself to be abused again."

But the next day Kaden arrived at the studio, happy and chatty. He apologized for the day before.

"I'm sorry. I think I'm just jealous and disappointed that you're leaving. I like working with you."

"We can still see each other and hang out. You know, we still haven't met up for dinner with you and Jake so Mickey and I can meet him. Maybe we can do that this weekend."

Kaden turned away and busied himself on his computer.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe this weekend."

* * *

Trouble arrived in May.

Mickey arrived at rehearsal Tuesday morning to find Kevin anxiously waiting for him.

"I need to talk to you."

Mickey groaned. "Oh come on, Kevin. Not more script changes. Look, you really need to have more confidence in the material. You did a great job tightening..."

Kevin grabbed his arm and dragged him into the hallway.

"This isn't about the script."

"What's going on?"

Kevin looked around and up and down the hallway before lowering his head and voice.

"Is everything okay with you and Ian?"

"Of course, why?"

Kevin looked around again before continuing. "An investigator from the Masters Ministry showed up at my place last night. He questioned me about you."

"A what? An investigator? Why? What kind of questions?"

"When was the last time I saw Ian? How did he look? Do you feed him? He even asked...he asked me if you were abusive. Do you beat him, starve him, have I ever seen him with a black eye?"

Shock, anger and fear filled Mickey's mind all at the same time.

"What? Why? Why would the ministry just show up like that? Do they do that? I didn't even know they did that! Why would they do that? Why are they investigating me?"

Kevin shook his head. "I don't know. Naturally I asked why he was asking all these questions, but you know how the Ministry is. They're secretive and creepy. He wouldn't tell me anything. Just said that as a master I was required to answer truthfully. Of course I told him that you are a wonderful master and that you love Ian more than anything. I told him it wasn't in your nature to be abusive. That you couldn't be abusive, and certainly not towards Ian."

Mickey took a deep breath. Panicking was not the answer. Perhaps it was just a routine, random check. The ministry did that sometimes. Didn't they?

 _Established in 1901, The Masters Ministry is dedicated to promoting, protecting and strengthening the loving relationship between master and slave. It serves as the governing body for all master/slave relationships, and seeks to provide guidance and corrective training for both masters and slaves, with special emphasis on the protection of the slave population._

Or so they claimed.

In reality, the Masters Ministry was a dark and frightening organization that handed out justice in a most uneven and unpredictable manner. While they claimed to take their role as protectors of slaves seriously, it was no secret that bribery ran rampant. For the right price, a master brought up on charges of slave abuse could walk away with just a warning. At the same time, the ministry relished the opportunity to provide "guidance and corrective training to masters and slaves." Guidance and corrective training were code words for torture and punishment. It was better for a master to be sued in court than face being reported to the Ministry. And despite their claims of "emphasis on protection of the slave population," the Ministry Hunt Teams, commonly referred to as trackers, were notorious for their abusive methods. They hunted down and captured runaway slaves, but then kept them for a month of "corrective training" before turning them over to the ministry.

"Listen, Mickey. I'm sure everything's fine. Everyone knows you and Ian are awesome together. It was probably just some random thing."

Mickey nodded. Yes. Random. Sure. That's all it was.

Until it wasn't.

* * *

Two days later Mickey received a panicked call from Rachel.

"Mickey, someone from the Ministry was here! He just left! Oh, my God! He was scary and weird. I had to lock Finn in his cage, he was so upset. He was asking all these questions about you and Ian. He wanted to know if you were a good master and how you treat him. He even asked me if you were abusive! I couldn't believe it! I told him you were the most loving, amazing, attentive master ever. Well, besides me of course, and that you would never, ever abuse Ian. What's going on? Why is the Ministry investigating you? Wait...you didn't do something...did you?"

"No! Rachel, how could you ask that?"

"I know! I know! Of course you didn't! It just seems strange that they would send someone to ask questions. Wait...Oh. My. God. What if they were really here to spy on me? What if they used investigating you to really get in here to check on Finn? You know, I have enemies, Mickey. Actresses who are upset that I'm more talented than they are and beat them out for great roles. What if this was all a ruse to investigate me!"

Mickey rolled his eyes. Only Rachel could turn something like this around to be all about her. Mickey didn't want to tell her about the visit Kevin received, but he had to calm her down.

"Rachel, the Ministry doesn't need a disguise to visit you to check on Finn. They can just barge in."

Shit.

He hadn't thought about that before. He glanced at the door.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but I don't want Ian to know about this. Make sure you tell Finn to keep his mouth shut. I don't know what's going on and I don't want Ian worried."

"Of course. Maybe it's just a random thing."

A random thing.

First Kevin, now Rachel.

Random?

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks for letting me know, Rachel. I gotta go." Mickey hung up.

His heart was beating too fast, his head hurt and his stomach felt sick. He was scared and embarrassed that his friends were being questioned as if he were a criminal. Who else would they visit, and more importantly, why? Why was this happening?

Mickey sat in the kitchen and allowed himself 15 minutes to stew in his panic and fear before pulling himself together. He did not want Ian to sense that something was wrong. He calmed himself down and dug into his command. Everything was fine. Everything would be fine. There was nothing to worry about.

He walked into the living room and looked at Ian sitting on the couch, scribbling in his music book. He looked up at Mickey and smiled.

"Yes sir?"

Dammit.

Why? Why did Ian have to look so submissive and sexy, and beautiful, and simply...perfect?

Mickey felt the urge to cry. He blinked hard. Ian frowned and slid off the couch. He crawled over to Mickey and kneeled in front of him.

"Sir...what's wrong?"

Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head. No. No. No. No. Stop it. Don't cry. You can't cry. You'll upset Ian. Dom up and control yourself. Be the master that you are. Mickey took a deep breath.

"Nothing. I just...I just love you so much. You make me happy. So damn happy. Are...are you happy, Ian? Do I make you happy?"

Ian looked shocked at the question. He wrapped his arms around Mickey's legs and looked up at him.

"Yes sir. You make me more than happy. I can't describe how you make me feel. You are everything to me. Serving you gives me so much joy and happiness and just...everything. I love you...Mickey. I love you."

Mickey closed his eyes and unzipped his pants. He took out his cock and pressed it to Ian's lips. Ian took it into his mouth and sucked hungrily, eager to show Mickey just how much he loved him and loved serving him.

Mickey didn't allow himself to come. Instead he pulled out after a few minutes and pulled Ian to his feet. He pressed their mouths together, kissing him with passionate need. He backed them towards the bedroom, discarding clothes along the way. He pushed Ian down on the bed and entered him quickly. Ian hissed and dug his nails into the bed as Mickey slid in and out at a slow and rhythmic pace. It made his toes curl and his insides buzz. He pushed his hips up to meet every single thrust, taking Mickey's cock in as deep as possible. Together they reached a strong, shuddering orgasm. Mickey didn't pull out. Instead he pressed his body into Ian's and was rewarded with a deep moan and a tightening of Ian's arms and legs around him. Mickey kept pressing, enjoying the sound of Ian's submission and the feel of their bond. The more Mickey pressed, the more Ian moaned and murmured, "Oh, master...I submit to you. I'm yours. Own me. Control me. I'm yours. I'm yours..."

Mickey kissed and sucked at his neck, leaving deep red marks. "Yes. Mine. All mine. I own you. Forever. You are mine forever." He whispered the words against Ian's skin, determined they would remain true.

As Ian drifted off to sleep underneath him, Mickey started to worry again. Why was the ministry investigating him? What or who provoked the investigation? What if they came to take...

Mickey squeezed his eyes shut.

No.

He couldn't think about that. Wouldn't think about that.

That could never happen.

Never.

Never ever.

* * *

A week later, Mickey's phone rang in the middle of rehearsal. He usually ignored it unless it was Ian's ring, but this time he grabbed it, giving Kevin and the rest of the cast an apologetic look. It was Chandler.

"Hey."

"Hey. What are you and Ian doing tonight?"

"Nothing special. Why?"

"Come over tonight. I'll cook dinner."

Mickey was quiet. Chandler's voice sounded off. Too tense and serious. He closed his eyes and gripped the phone tightly. Somehow he knew. He just knew.

"Did someone from the ministry..."

Chandler cut him off. "Yes, but I don't want you to panic in the middle of rehearsal. You need to concentrate. Don't worry about it, just come over for dinner tonight."

Mickey tried to stay calm, but his heart was racing.

"Mickey? Mickey, stop worrying and don't stress. It's going to be okay. Just come over tonight and we'll talk. Now go back to rehearsal. Focus on the show."

Mickey nodded despite being on the phone.

"Mickey?"

"Okay. Yes. Okay."

Mickey hung up and walked to the bathroom.

He didn't want to admit it. Had been denying it in his mind for days. But now he couldn't avoid it.

This wasn't random. This was deliberate.

The Ministry was after him.

K&B&K&B

Mickey was grateful for Ian's constant chatter over dinner. He was excited to tell Chandler and Seth all about the musical and all the songs he and Rick were working on. Ian's chatter made it possible for Mickey to remain quiet. Chandler watched Mickey watching Ian. Mickey's eyes were filled with love, but Chandler could see the stress Mickey was trying to hide from Ian, leaking around the corners of his eyes.

Once dinner was over, Chandler sent Ian and Seth to the living room while he and Mickey went to the bedroom. They sat down on the bed.

"Okay, let's talk this through. First, I assume Ian doesn't know?"

"No, and I don't want him to know so don't mention it to Seth."

"Okay. How many other people have they visited?"

"As far as I know only Kevin and Rachel. If they've visited others, I haven't heard about it."

Chandler nodded. "I'm assuming they asked them the same questions they asked me: when did I last see Ian, how do you treat him, are you abusive...do you give him to others?"

Mickey's eyes grew wide. "What? Do I give him to others? I...they...they didn't ask Kevin or Rachel that, unless they just didn't tell me...oh, God..."

Mickey put his face in his hands. "Why? Why are they doing this? Is it possible this is random? Just a general checkup or something?"

Chandler shook his head. "No. The Ministry isn't proactive like that. They really should be, given the abuse you hear about, but they aren't. Have you told your dad?"

Mickey shook his head. He had thought about calling him, but he didn't want him to worry. Plus, the more people who knew what was going on, the more real and scary the entire thing felt.

"I think you should tell him. He might be able to use his influence to find out what's going on."

"No, I don't want him to do that. I don't want him in the middle of this...whatever this is. I was thinking that maybe I would contact the Ministry and see if they would tell me what they're looking for. I don't have anything to hide. I wish they would just come to me instead of harassing my friends."

"The Ministry doesn't work that way. You're guilty until proven innocent."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just wait for them to show up and try to take Ian?" His stomach lurched and his chest tightened. "This isn't fair! I haven't done anything wrong! I love him! I take care of him! I would never abuse Ian! Never!"

Chandler placed his hand on Mickey's shoulder. "I know that, Mickey. Your friends know that. You have plenty of people who will vouch for you, and more importantly, all they have to do is look at Ian. He's a healthy, happy, strong, yet submissive slave. It's obvious you don't abuse him. If anything, you spoil him. Just let the investigation run its course. It will all be fine."

Mickey exhaled and nodded. Chandler was right. Whatever the Ministry was looking for, they wouldn't find it.

Everything would be fine.

It had to be.

In the living room, Ian and Seth were laughing and making up silly lyrics for the musical. Ian actually jotted down a few that might work for real songs. He promised to give Seth credit if he used them.

His cell phone rang.

"Hey, Wes! Hi!"

"Hi Ian. How are you? Can you talk?"

"I'm good. Yeah, now's fine. Just fooling around with my Seth. You remember him. He's Chandler's..."

Wes cut him off. "Where's Mickey?"

"He's talking to Chandler in the bedroom. Do you want me to go..."

"No. Ian...is everything okay?"

Ian frowned. Wes sounded strange.

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

"Um...you and Mickey...you're good, right?"

"Yeah, we're great. Wes...what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I um...just wanted to talk to you. What have you been up to?"

Ian started telling Wes about the musical he was working on.

Wes listened very, very carefully. For clues.

"Okay, listen. You know you can call me if you need to, right? I mean...if you ever need...I don't know...help or something."

Ian was confused. "Well...yeah, but why would I ever need to call you? Mickey takes care of me. Wes...what's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just being nostalgic. Thinking about back in high school when you needed me I guess."

"Ugh. Don't get nostalgic about that. High school was a nightmare."

"Hey, not all of it. We had some outstanding Warbler performances."

Ian laughed. "Yeah. Especially the nursing home ones."

Wes laughed and relaxed. Ian sounded good. Things in New York were fine.

Wes wrapped up the conversation and hung up. Carmen looked at him expectantly.

"Well?"

"He sounds good. It doesn't sound like anything's going on. Every few years the Ministry likes to pretend it's dedicated to its mission. Maybe it was just a random check up."

Carmen smiled. "Of course it was. You worry too much, but that's why I love you. You're a good man and a great friend. Now master, come make me pregnant."

Wes inhaled as Carmen dropped her dress to the floor.

How the hell had he made it through those four years?

* * *

Over the next three weeks, five more people familiar with Mickey and Ian were visited. Their upstairs neighbor, Jennifer, three cast members, and the owner of the studio. Mickey managed to keep it all secret from Ian.

Until an investigator showed up at Rick's home.

Rick hadn't known Mickey and Ian long, and he certainly didn't think Ian was abused, but he didn't feel an obligation to call Mickey. His relationship was with Ian, and Mickey. They'd developed a great working partnership and had also become friends. If there was trouble, his allegiance was to Ian.

He arrived at Mickey and Ian's place at 9:00 am the next morning.

"Hi! Come on in! I was working on the flower field number last night, and I think I figured out a great song to end act two. Listen."

Rick watched Ian closely as he hurried to the piano and began playing and singing. No way this kid was being abused, but...you never know. Masters are powerful. The control they hold over their slaves is powerful. Mickey was extremely strong and dominate. Maybe there was abuse in his past.

Rick waited until Ian finished.

"So?"

"Uh, it's great. Really great, but I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure. What's up?"

Rick suddenly felt nervous and a little guilty. As a master, he knew he should really be talking to Mickey. But if Ian was being abused...

"Someone came to see me last night."

Ian looked at him blankly. "Okay, who?"

"An investigator. A Ministry investigator."

"The Masters Ministry? But why? You don't have a slave."

"They...he wanted to know about you. About you and Mickey."

"Huh?"

"He wanted to know if..." Rick trailed off. It occurred to him that he had no plan for the off chance that Ian confessed to being abused. If Ian confided in him, what was he going to do? What was he prepared to do?

"Ian...how does Mickey treat you?"

"He treats me great. He's wonderful to me. He loves me. What's going on?"

"Um...if Mickey was...if he ever...um...shit. I don't know how to say this."

Ian was getting annoyed. Why was Rick asking about Mickey?

"Just say it. What?"

"Has Mickey ever abused you?"

Ian was shocked. "Wh-what?"

"The investigator from the Ministry wanted to know if you were being abused. I told him I didn't think so, but I haven't known you or Mickey for that long and..."

"Of course not! Mickey doesn't abuse me! He loves me! How could you...how could anyone ever think that! What the hell..."

"Calm down. I made it clear that I didn't think you were being abused, but why is the Ministry investigating Mickey?"

"I don't know!" Ian was angry and scared. Why was the Ministry asking questions about Mickey?

The two sat in tense silence for several minutes. Rick could feel Ian's anger and see the fear in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I had to ask. I mean, think about it. Some guy from the Ministry suddenly shows up at my door, asking questions about a master I haven't even known that long? I think Mickey's a great guy, but...you never know."

Ian shot him a piercing, hate-filled look. How could anyone, even someone who hadn't known him long, think Mickey was abusive? Mickey was the best master in the world. In the entire fucking universe.

"Do you want to work today?"

Ian shook his head. He didn't trust Rick anymore.

"Well do you wanna just hang out? We could watch a movie or go to the music store or..."

"Why don't you just leave?"

Rick's face fell. "Ian, I'm sorry! I didn't...I just wanted to make sure you were okay. If Mickey was abusing..."

"Mickey doesn't abuse me! Stop saying that!"

"I know! I know! I believe you, but I had to ask! Not all slaves are as fortunate as you, Ian. There are some horrible masters out there. There are slaves trapped in terrible situations. You should be glad someone gives a shit! It's good the Ministry exists. They protect slaves."

Ian snorted. "You really believe that? Please. The ministry protects slaves, unless there's a rich master involved." Kash briefly floated through Ian's mind. He quickly shook the thought away.

"Look, why don't you just go home? I'm tired. We'll work tomorrow."

Rick was hurt and a little scared. He hadn't meant to upset him. He didn't want to ruin their friendship or partnership.

"I'm sorry, Ian. I thought you would want to know. Mickey should know too."

Ian sighed. He was getting angry at the wrong person. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for telling me. I'm sorry. It's just...Mickey means everything to me. He's more than my master. He's my...he's my everything. I don't know what would have happened to me if it weren't for him. I'm the slave I am today because of him. Because of his love and care for me. To hear someone accuse him or even suggest that he hurts me...it really pisses me off. "

Rick nodded. "I understand."

Ian stood up. "I'm gonna go see Mickey. He should know about this."

Once Rick left, Ian started really worrying. Why was the ministry investigating Mickey? What did it mean? What could it lead to? He needed to tell Mickey. Mickey would know what it meant and what to do.

Ian arrived at the theater in time to see Mickey finishing one of his musical numbers. His heart swelled with pride as he watched Mickey dance across the stage, belting out a song with flawless pitch and incredible sound as he held the final note a full 20 seconds. Ian had to restrain himself from applauding and cheering.

Then Mickey transformed before his eyes.

The moment Kevin yelled cut, Mickey's shoulders sagged. He walked over to a trunk on stage and sat down heavily. His expression was tired and tense. His body looked worn down and stressed.

Ian frowned. What was going on? Brad couldn't be that bad. He walked down the aisle towards the stage. Sensing his presence, Mickey looked up.

"Ian!" Mickey quickly stood up and hurried towards him.

"What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Yes sir. Well...not exactly. I'm not sure. Can you take a break?"

"Of course." Mickey caught Kevin's eye. Kevin nodded and Mickey took Ian's hand and led him out of the theater and down the hall to an empty office. He closed the door and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. Ian hugged him back just as tight. They stayed like this for several minutes, neither wanting to break the embrace. Mickey finally took charge.

"Why are you here? What's wrong?"

Mickey listened as Ian told him about the investigator visiting Rick. Dammit. He was ticked with Rick for telling Ian. He really should have called Mickey, but he understood Rick's thinking. Ian was his friend, not Mickey.

"What does this mean? Why would the Ministry send someone to ask questions about you?"

Mickey struggled. The protective master in him wanted to keep Ian safe and blissfully unaware of the danger that might be headed their way, but he didn't want to lie to him. He never lied to Ian. Keeping things secret for this long was probably a bad idea.

"Because...because apparently I'm under investigation."

"What?"

"I'm...this wasn't...Rick wasn't the first visit. There have others. Kevin, Rachel, Chandler, Jennifer from upstairs...they've all received visits. Rick is number nine."

"Nine? Wait? What? How long has this been going on?"

"A little over a month."

"But why? What does this mean? Why are they investigating you? Rick said they think you abuse me. Is that true? Is that what they asked the others? Why would they think that?"

Mickey shook his head. "I don't know, Ian. I don't know. I don't know why this is happening, but I believe everything will be okay. Everyone knows how much I love you and that I don't abuse you. They're fishing and they're not going to catch anything."

Ian sat down on the desk and stared at the floor.

"When were you going to tell me this was happening?"

Mickey sighed. "I wasn't. I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you scared."

Ian looked up, his eyes filled with the very worry and fear Mickey had sought to avoid. "Are you scared?"

Mickey pulled Ian off the desk and placed his hands on Ian's shoulders. He pushed him up against the wall, pressing their bodies together. Ian moaned and felt the dominance and control fill him as he listened to his master's voice.

"Everything will be fine, Ian. You don't have to worry. Nothing is going to happen to us. Nothing. Ever. Never. I would die before I allowed something to happen to you. You are mine. You belong to me. I am your master. You are my slave. Nothing will ever change that. This is all just some type of mistake. A misunderstanding. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Ian was so overwhelmed by the feel of Mickey pressed against him, he didn't notice that Mickey didn't answer his question.

* * *

Two weeks passed with no more visits. Mickey called Wes to tell him what was going on and Wes guiltily admitted to his phone call to Ian. Mickey was deeply hurt. Rick he could understand, but Wes?

"After all these years you felt the need to call Ian and not me?"

"I'm sorry, Mickey. Please don't take it personally. I spent years looking out for Ian. When that Ministry official showed up, it was like being back in high school. It triggered my protectiveness of him."

"But you know better! You know I would never hurt Ian! It's been almost seven years! And don't take it personally? How else am I supposed to take it?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't tell Ian why I was calling. We just chatted."

"Yeah, so you could make sure I wasn't beating the hell out of him."

"Mickey..."

"I get it, Wes. I gotta go. Bye."

Mickey slammed his phone down on the table.

If Wes, the person who had introduced him to Ian, could harbor a tiny seed of concern after all these years, what would the Ministry think?

Mickey looked over at Ian who was quietly daydreaming.

While locked in his cage.

Mickey was having paranoia problems.

He didn't leave in the mornings until Rick arrived. Rick stayed with Ian until Mickey returned. Ian was not allowed to go out alone. Mickey triple checked the doors at night before they went to sleep. Ian wore his cock cage at all times, and at night he wore a special nighttime wrist leash tying him to Mickey. When he woke in the morning, he was able to unlock it in order to prepare himself to serve Mickey at 7 am.

And Mickey locked Ian in his cage more often. It wasn't for punishment. Mickey just felt better knowing Ian was locked in his cage. A cage with a very strong lock that would be difficult to break open.

Their sex life changed as well.

Mickey's Dom Master mind processed the investigation as a direct challenge to his dominance, control and ownership of Ian. He felt the need to reassert and reinforce that he was Ian's master.

By fucking him until he couldn't walk.

Mickey bolted Ian to the fucking table almost every night. He screwed him hard, filling him with his cum, marking him with his scent. Ian's body and mind responded by begging for more. Some nights Mickey would screw him and then slide in the inflatable dildo, pumping it until Ian screamed. Mickey would push and pump it a bit further and then leave him trapped in excruciating, sexual agony while he whispered in his ear.

"I own you, Ian. You are my slave. Mine. You are my property. I claimed you and you are mine. Do you submit to me, Ian? To me and me alone?"

"Yes...yes master. I submit to you. Only to you."

"Do you want me to free you from your torture?"

"No! Please master...use me as you wish."

And Mickey did.

Ian had never felt more owned, used and loved. In addition to all the sex, Mickey stroked, petted, kissed, hugged and nurtured him constantly. They were lulled to sleep every night by Ian's purring.

But they were living under a cloud of unspoken fear.

Mickey tried calling the Ministry to find out what was going on, but got nowhere. The Ministry does not comment on active investigations.

"So the investigation is still active? Why? Are they going to keep harassing people until they find someone who hates me enough to say I abuse Ian?"

Mickey, Ian, Chandler and Seth were at Rachel and Finn's to help Rachel choose a dress for the upcoming Broadway Director's dinner. Mickey had been invited as well, but wasn't planning to go. He was too nervous.

Rachel shook her head. "They will never find someone who hates you that much. Now me on the other hand, I have tons of enemies."

"You don't have enemies, Rachel. You have people who admire your talent but wish you weren't so annoying."

"How am I annoying?"

Chandler laughed. "We could be here all night."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Whatever. How's Ian dealing with all of this? Is he scared?"

Mickey shook his head. "No. He was at first, but I convinced him that things would be okay. As if I know that. I don't know what's going on, I can't get answers and honestly, I'm terrified and I'm turning into a paranoid nightmare. I keep Ian locked up all the time and I'm fucking him to death. I nearly broke him in two last night."

Chandler grinned. "I thought he was walking funny."

Mickey shook his head sadly. "At least he can walk tonight. Last night he couldn't." Chandler looked impressed.

Mickey covered his face with his hands. "I just wish I knew why. Why are they after me?"

Ian, Seth and Finn were in Finn's room. They were supposed be playing God of War, but were instead huddled together discussing the investigation. Finn and Seth were scared.

"What happens now?" asked Seth.

Ian shook his head. "I don't know. We haven't heard anything. As far as we know, no one else has been visited."

Finn brightened. "Then it's probably over. They didn't find anything so it's over."

Ian shook his head. "I don't think so. Mickey's not acting like it's over."

Seth grinned. "I noticed you walking funny."

Ian blushed a little. "He's really been working me over. It's been amazing. It's like he can't get enough of me."

"Good problem to have. Is Mickey scared? I don't think I've ever seen Mickey look scared."

"No, Mickey's not scared. He's just worried and annoyed that they're bothering our friends."

Seth's voice was quiet. "Are you scared?"

Ian shook his head. "No. Mickey said everything would be okay so I have no reason to be scared, but I am worried about Mickey. This has been really hard on him."

Chandler and Finn looked at each other but said nothing.

Ian grabbed a controller. "Come on, let's play."

* * *

Two more weeks passed without incident. A full month. Mickey began to relax. It was over. They didn't find anything, so it was over. Mickey stopped locking Ian in his cage and he took a break from mercilessly fucking him every single night. Instead they went back to making love. Warm, soft and sensuous. Passionate kisses with gentle squeezes and touches. Ian was happy with whatever Mickey wanted to do to him, but he welcomed the change. It was nice to see Mickey calm and peaceful. Plus, Mickey allowed him to top. Ian loved the feel of Mickey, hot and tight around his cock. It was his turn to fuck away his worry and stress. Mickey screamed, hitting a lovely high note, as Ian thrust hard and deep into his ass. Mickey felt sorry for the masters who never allowed their slaves to top. They had no idea what they were missing.

* * *

Thursday evening.

They were cleaning up the kitchen and trying to decide what to do that weekend.

"We could go to the zoo? We haven't been in awhile."

Mickey wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. Too stinky."

"The zoo is not stinky!"

"What about the elephant house?"

"I like the smell of the elephant house."

"You what? You like the smell? Ian, are you insane?"

"No, and you don't have to go into the elephant house. Please? I want to see the monkeys."

Mickey sighed. "You are a monkey. A cute, curly haired monkey who likes to jump on furniture."

"I haven't done that since high school."

"I beg your pardon? Have you forgotten about a certain lamp that was broken because someone was dancing around the living room and jumping from the couch to the chair which bumped the table and sent the lamp crashing to the floor?"

Ian grinned. "But I paid my debt for that. I slept in the cage that night." He gave Mickey a kiss on the cheek. "You're lucky to have your own monkey. You don't have to go to the zoo."

"Exactly."

Ian frowned. "Wait...that wasn't the point I wanted to make."

Mickey laughed. "Oh, fine. We'll go to the zoo, but I will sit outside while you visit the elephants."

Ian clapped his hands. "Yaaaayyyy!"

Mickey's laughter was interrupted by the door buzzer. He glanced at the clock.

9:18 pm

Who would be visiting them this late without calling first?

In an instant, the joy from just a moment ago was sucked out of the room and replaced with dread and a slow rising panic.

Mickey walked to the intercom with Ian following close behind him.

"Yes?"

"Mickey E. Milkovich?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Perlson. I'm from the Master's Ministry. I need to speak with you."

Mickey jumped back as if he'd been bitten. Ian gasped and grabbed Mickey's arm.

No.

No. No. No. No.

Mickey took a deep breath and transformed. His shoulders rolled back, his chest puffed out, his muscles clenched tighter, and his eyes narrowed. As Mickey's full dominant nature rose, Ian's submission responded. He was on his knees in seconds. Hands folded, eyes on the floor.

The buzzer rang again, loud and insistent.

Mickey stepped forward. "Yes?"

"Mr. Milkovich, I need to speak with you. Open the door."

Mickey pressed the entrance button. He unlocked the apartment door and stepped back.

"Stand, Ian."

Ian rose to his feet and quickly moved behind Mickey, peeking nervously around him. Mickey clasped Ian's hand and waited.

A moment later two men appeared in the doorway. The first was short with white blonde hair and steel blue eyes. His skin was a waxy pale color. His lips were thin and blood red giving him a strange and frightening appearance. He wore a black suit with beige tie. On his lapel was a small gold pin of an M with two whips across it in an X. He gave off an air of superiority. And evil.

The second man was one of the largest men either of them had ever seen. He was easily 7 feet tall with muscles bulging from all sides. He had small black eyes and the same waxy pale complexion. His body filled the doorway and provided a menacing backdrop for his much shorter companion.

"Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich?"

Mickey's eyes and voice were ice cold and filled with venom.

"Yes."

"I am Perlson with the Masters Ministry. I need to speak with you regarding sub slave Ian Victor Gallagher."

A minute passed as they stood there, the men obviously waiting for Mickey to invite them in. He didn't.

"I think it would be best to have this conversation inside."

Mickey reluctantly stepped back and allowed the men to enter. The huge man closed the door and stood in front of it, blocking it completely. Perlson sat down in a chair. Mickey stood in the middle of the living room and stared angrily at his unwanted guest. Ian was glued to him, his nails digging into Mickey's arm.

Perlson looked up at Mickey. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

Mickey crossed his arms. "I prefer to stand."

"I think you should sit."

"No."

Perlson sighed in annoyance. "Very well." He opened a portfolio and took out several papers. "Before we begin, allow me to verify that I'm in the right place. You are Dom Master Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich?"

Mickey gave a short nod.

Perlson glanced at Ian. Mickey slid his arm protectively around Ian's waist and gently stroked Ian's purr spot. He didn't purr, but he did relax slightly.

"And this is your sub slave, Ian Victor Gallagher? Son of Monica and Frank Gallagher?"

"Yes. What do you want?" Mickey's voice was angry and annoyed.

Perlson's eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a tense, evil smile. His manner was very formal.

"As I'm sure you're aware, the Masters Ministry is dedicated to promoting healthy relationships between slaves and masters with a laser focus on the protection of slaves. We take our responsibility very seriously and endeavor to..."

Mickey cut him off. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

Perlson ran his eyes up and down Mickey's body in an almost lustful fashion. He looked at Ian as he spoke.

"I am here to follow up on an abuse claim made against you. We received a credible report that you have been abusing your slave. The Ministry takes slave abuse very seriously. Society cannot prosper and thrive if slaves are mistreated."

Mickey's blood was boiling. "A credible report? From who? I do not abuse Ian. I have never abused Ian. I would never abuse Ian, and whoever made that report is full of shit!"

Perlson's lips tightened into a thin line. He looked at Mickey in disgust. "Nevertheless, all abuse reports are thoroughly investigated."

"That's a lie."

Perlson looked at Ian in surprise. Slaves didn't usually speak in his presence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You only investigate if the master can't afford to pay you off."

"I find that statement rude and highly offensive."

"It's also very true."

Mickey smiled in satisfaction at the look of shock on Perlson's face. That's right, asshole. Not only is my slave not abused, he's strong.

Perlson stared uncomfortably at Ian, but then seemed to remember that he had the upper hand. He wielded the power and control in the room. He smiled once more and looked at Mickey, his expression smug and knowing.

"Let's move on, shall we? I am here to inform you that the investigation has been halted due to a new development."

A chill of fear slid slowly through Mickey's body and infected Ian. Mickey tightened his hold on Ian's waist, and Ian moved even closer to Mickey, his body pressed into his side.

"What new development?"

Perlson pulled out several official looking documents.

"While we were conducting our investigation, we received a request for claim nullification, commonly known as a rescind order, from Monica Ramken Gallagher, mother of the sub slave in question. Well naturally, given that you were already under investigation, her request was immediately granted and the investigation halted since the sub slave will no longer be in danger. Sub slave, Ian Victor Gallagher, is to be returned to her care."

No.

No.

No.

Mickey started screaming. "No! You can't do this! She can't do this! Ian is mine! I claimed him! I followed all the rules and I have never, ever abused him! He's mine!"

Ian was shaking his head. "I'm not leaving! I'm not leaving and you can't make me! I'm not abused and I'm not leaving!"

Perlson's smug smile turned evil, his tone dripping with false affection. "Oh, don't worry. You don't have to leave tonight. Mr. Milkovich, you have one week to prepare your slave for departure. This instruction guide will explain how. I suggest you begin by removing his collar tonight. It will make..."

Mickey lost it. "Get out! Get out of my house! Get out!"

The huge man took a few steps towards Mickey. Perlson held up his hand and stood up.

"No need for all that. I'll leave the instruction guide along with a copy of the rescind order for you to review once you've calmed down and accepted the inevitable. You have one week. You will receive a call letting you know what time he will be picked up by the removal team. And Mr. Milkovich, I strongly advise you not to do anything foolish. Denying a rescind order is a punishable offense. Masters who try to deny these orders simply land in prison and the slave is removed anyway. Don't make this harder on your slave than it has to be. Read the instruction book, do as it says, and the removal process will go smoothly."

Mickey was seeing red. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck the Ministry! Fuck Monica Gallagher! You can all go to hell!"

Perslon continued to smile. He walked to the door and then turned back to look at Mickey.

"Hell is the inside of a Ministry prison. I can assure you I won't be going there. You on the other hand..."

They turned and left, slamming the door behind them.

Mickey stood there trembling. His mind was so angry he couldn't think straight, while his chest was tight with panic and fear. He didn't snap out of his trance until he heard Ian's shaky whisper. His eyes were scared and pleading.

"Pl-please...please don't let them take me. Please...I can't...I-I can't..."

Mickey threw his arms around him. "Of course I'm not letting them take you! You're mine and I'm not giving you up! Never! Never! You're mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!"

They stood there holding each other. It was like high school again. Mickey fought back tears as he whispered reassuring words to Ian, and Ian clung to him, wanting to believe everything he said. A tiny voice in the back of Mickey's head told him to stop, but he couldn't. Ian needed to know that he would never just hand him over to his mother. Never.

"I will fight this. I don't know who's telling lies about me, but I will fight this. I will not let your mother get away with this. Now go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes sir."

Mickey checked the locks on the door and made sure all the window curtains were closed. He sat down on the couch and picked up the rescind order.

 _Rescind order 218-Gallagher, Ian V._

 _It is hereby ordered that sub slave, Ian Victor Gallagher, be immediately removed from the ownership of Dom Master, Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich, as requested by Monica Ramken Gallagher (mother), and approved by the Masters Ministry._

 _This order is issued pursuant to the 8-year Rescind Rule._

 _Sub slave Ian Victor Gallagher – years claimed: 6 years, 10 months_

 _Reason for Rescind Request: parental privilege*_

 _*Dom Master Milkovich is currently under investigation for abuse._

 _The sub slave will be removed 7 days from notification of nullification. Failure to comply with this order will result in punishable jail time._

Mickey stopped reading.

Seven days.

They would come to take Ian away in seven days.

Mickey swallowed the sob in his throat.

It was late, but he still picked up his phone.

"Dad? I need help."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 _ **FRIDAY**_

This was not the correct way to handle the situation.

Taking a blowtorch to the building would probably be more effective.

But he was too angry to think rationally.

Frank exited the elevator, stormed through the doors and down the hall. He walked into the executive suite, past the executive assistant.

"Sir? Sir? Hey! You can't go in there! Sir!"

Frank ignored her. He spotted the conference room. Through the windows he could see Monica sitting at the head of a large conference table surrounded by Asian businessmen. He burst into the room and started yelling.

"How could you do this? How could you? After six years? How could you do this to them?"

The businessmen stared at Frank. Monica looked completely unfazed by the sight of a man storming into her meeting, red and shaking with anger.

"I am simply protecting my son. As his mother it's my job to..."

"Protecting him from what? And since when are you interested in what happens to Ian? You never gave a shit about him!"

"I will not sit back and allow my son to be abused."

Frank felt his chest tighten. He needed to calm down, but couldn't.

"Abused? Are you kidding me? Mickey loves Ian! He takes excellent care of him! How dare you accuse my son of abuse!"

"If you read the rescind order, you'll see that I'm not the one making the accusation. I'm just taking the steps necessary to make sure the abuse stops."

"How could you do this to him? You're supposed to want what's best for him! You know what this will do to him! Furthermore, we had a deal!"

"Yes, we had a deal that I would allow your son to claim mine, provided he would take care of him and not mistreat him. It's not my fault your son's an abusive master. You should have raised him better. "

"Bullshit! That's bullshit and you know it! Mickey loves Ian! He is not an abuser! I trusted you! I trusted you to keep your word!"

"And I trusted your son not to mistreat mine! Now get out!"

Four large security guards surrounded Frank.

"Get him out of here before he keels over. This carpet is brand new."

Two of the guards grabbed Frank's arms and started dragging him from the room.

"Get off of me! This isn't over! Do you hear me? You will not get away with this!"

Monica rolled her eyes. Once he was gone she turned to the businessmen and addressed them in perfect Mandarin.

"I'm so sorry about that. A crazy from off the street. Where were we?"

* * *

Mickey sat silently on the living room couch staring into space. It was almost 9:00 am. When Ian woke up at 6:20 that morning, Mickey was already awake. He told Ian to go back to sleep. Yes, it was Friday, but he wasn't going to the theater, and he had sent Rick a text telling him not to come over. Ian should sleep. But as a well-trained, creature of habit, Ian had tossed and turned until Mickey allowed him to get out of bed, follow his normal routine and blow him. Only then was Ian able to climb back into bed and return to sleep. As he lay there, Mickey wondered what Ian would do the first weekday morning he didn't wake up next to him. Routine and control was important to slaves. It was soothing. What would Ian do without it? What would he do without Mickey to control him and feed his submission through a carefully crafted combination of love, dominance and sexual punishment? What would happen to the strength Mickey had spent six years building within him? How quickly would it disappear under Monica's cold treatment?

Mickey couldn't stop the questions and fears spinning in his brain, so he climbed out of bed, took Ian's phone and headed to the living room.

He scrolled through the numbers until he found Monica's cell and office numbers. Years ago Ian asked Mickey if he should delete them. Mickey told him to keep them just in case. He didn't know why, but he felt Ian should have them.

He decided to try the office. Voice mail.

" _Mrs. Gallagher, this is Mickey Milkovich, Ian's master. I received the rescind order and I'm calling to ask you to please cancel it. I assure you that I have never, nor would I ever hurt Ian in any way. Ever. I would never, ever abuse him or mistreat him. I love him more than anything. I love him so much. You need to understand that. Please...please don't take him from me. Just ...call me or call Ian. Ian will tell you that I've never hurt him. Please...please don't take him..."_

He hung up as the phone beeped signaling his time had run out.

Running out of time.

He and Ian were running out of time.

They only had six days, unless he or his dad could figure something out. Fast.

Mickey's cell phone rang. Kevin.

"Where the hell are you? We're waiting for you!"

Mickey sighed. There was no way he could concentrate on the show. Not now. He told Kevin to give his part to his understudy, Tony. Permanently.

"What? Are you kidding? I can't do that! You're the star! You're the reason the investors came on board! I need you! The show needs you!"

Kevin calmed down once Mickey told him about the rescind order, but he refused to give the role to Tony permanently.

"Let's just play it by ear. We'll figure this out."

Mickey continued to sit on the couch, staring at the wall. Why did Monica want Ian? Why now? Was it really because of the abuse investigation? No, it couldn't be. She initiated the nullification request before she knew about the abuse investigation. Didn't she?

Mickey picked up Ian's phone again and scrolled to Monica's cell phone. When her voice mail came on, he left the same message he'd left on her office phone. As he placed the phone on the table, his eye caught a glimpse of the instruction book Perlson had left. Mickey stared at it for a moment before picking it up.

 _It is important that you explain to your slave why you are releasing him/her. In cases where the slave is being removed due to your failure as a master, it is important to let the slave know that the removal is not their fault. As the master, you failed them. They did not fail you._

 _Removal of the claiming collar is a painful experience for a slave. Prior to removing the collar, explain that they will suffer an intense and painful burning sensation within their submissive core. This sensation will be at it's most intense during the first 24 hours after collar removal. The sensation may also be accompanied by deep emotional distress as the mind tries to process the loss..._

 _In the event of a slave going to a new master, it is important that the releasing master explain the situation and command the slave to submit to their new master immediately and without hesitation._

Mickey's stomach twisted.

 _submit to their new master immediately and without hesitation_

What if Monica sent Ian to a new master?

Mickey threw the book across the room and covered his face as tears burned his eyes. It couldn't be that. Anything but that. Mickey covered his mouth and tried to muffle his sobs. He didn't want Ian to hear him or to see him cry. He had to be strong. Confident. In command. He needed to project a sense of control over the situation. Not freak Ian out further by blubbering all over the place.

Mickey sniffed and wiped away his tears. He needed help. He decided to call Wes. He was still hurt over Wes's secret call to Ian, but he knew Wes would want to know what was going on and he would probably have ideas about what to do.

Wes was shocked. "I never...I never thought she would do something like this. I thought she would be glad to get rid of him. I never expected her to think of him ever again. Why is she doing this? Why does she want him?"

"Because I'm an abuser and she wants to protect her son."

"Yeah, right. I'll be on the first plane out. Don't worry, Mickey. We'll figure out something."

Next he called Chandler. After several minutes of cursing, Chandler promised that he and Seth would come over that evening.

After a few more phone calls, it was decided that everyone would meet at Mickey and Ian's that evening at 7:00 pm.

As he pressed send on a confirmation text to everyone, Mickey felt better. Everyone who loved them would be there that evening to help them figure out what to do. Working together, they would come up with a plan. Things would be fine.

Mickey put his phone on vibrate and returned to bed. He pulled Ian close to him, burying his nose in his hair to inhale his scent.

Yes, they would figure out something.

There was no way he was letting Monica have Ian.

* * *

That evening Ian opened the door for Chandler and Seth. Seth ran in and threw himself at Ian.

"They can't take you! You're my best friend!"

Ian laughed and returned his embrace. "Don't worry. They won't. I'm not going anywhere."

Chandler looked at Ian in surprise and then glanced at Mickey. Mickey looked away. Chandler frowned.

What was Mickey telling Ian?

He waited until Seth and Ian disappeared to the Broadway Room.

"Mickey?"

Mickey spun around. "I know. I already know what you're going to say, but I have no intentions of letting them take Ian. He's mine. I claimed him. I did everything right. Monica's an evil bitch. I'm not letting her do this. I refuse."

Chandler glanced at Rick who was sitting at the kitchen table. Rick shook his head. Chandler looked back at Mickey. Mickey's arms were folded, his dominance on full display. Chandler could sense his strength. And his stubbornness.

"Mickey, it's a rescind order. I'm pretty sure you can't fight a rescind order."

"I don't care! I'm going to fight it! She has no grounds for this! I haven't done anything wrong! I don't even understand why she's doing this. She's never been interested in Ian."

Rick spoke up. "She's doing it because of the abuse allegation."

"No, she's not. She wouldn't care if Ian was being abused. She hasn't talked to him in almost 7 years! Now she wants to be mother of the year? No. Something else is going on."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but she's not getting away with this."

Chandler thought for a moment. "Could it have something to do with the business? Remember I told you about their European expansion. Does Ian have any connection at all?"

Mickey shook his head. "No, none. He has nothing to do with the business or his family. Well, sometimes his brother, but we haven't heard from him in months. Look, I don't care about her reasons. She's not getting him. I'm not letting him go."

Rick and Chandler looked at each other, but said nothing.

After everyone arrived and had pizza and salad for dinner, they all sat down to talk. Mickey looked around the living room and felt grateful. Chandler and Rachel were chatting, while Finn, Seth and Ian spoke quietly amongst themselves. Rick was in a serious conversation with Wes who had arrived a few hours ago. Even Kevin was there talking to Carol who had flown in earlier. The only person missing was his dad.

Frank was in Washington trying to call in favors and work his contacts in hopes of postponing the order and finding out who was behind the abuse allegation. The Masters Ministry operated separately and independent of the US Government, but as with all things political, there were connections. Frank was desperately calling the legislators he knew had relationships with the Ministry, hoping to get help.

Mickey's feelings of gratefulness for his friends soon turned to anger as he slowly realized that they were not on the same page.

Not even close.

It started with Rick offering to take Finn, Seth and Ian to the coffee house down the street. Mickey had no intentions of letting Ian out of his sight.

"I promise to keep him right with me the entire time. I won't let him out of my sight. I'll even go with him if he needs to take a leak."

Rachel spoke up. "I'll go too. It'll be fine, Mickey."

Ian made a face. "I don't need you to go with me to the bathroom, Rachel."

"I meant the coffee house!"

After 10 minutes of arguing, Mickey finally relented. He considered making Ian wear a leash, but his possessive, controlling mind wouldn't allow it. He couldn't accept the idea of Ian being attached to anyone but him.

The moment they left, Chandler began.

"Mickey, we all understand your desire to fight this. We really, really do. We love Ian too and we don't want to see him leave, but...you can't fight a valid rescind order, especially one with an abuse allegation attached. You need to start preparing Ian. You have to get him ready for what's coming. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth. Ian needs you now more than ever. You have to do everything you can to prepare him for the separation."

Carol reached across the table and took Mickey's hand.

"Sweetie, your father is going to do everything he can to stop this or at least postpone it, but you need to prepare for the worst. Rescind orders are almost never overturned. Plus, it's summertime. Most of the legislators are on vacation. He's trying to reach out to everyone he can, but it will probably take more than..."

Mickey interrupted her, his eyes burning with fury and hurt.

"So let me get this straight. None of you are here to help me figure out how to fight this. You're all here to explain to me how to roll over and play dead while Ian is dragged off to God knows where by his evil mother who has never, ever given a damn about him."

Kevin answered. "We understand how you feel. We really do. None of us want to see Ian taken away from you. We know what that's going to do to you and to him, but that's why you gotta start preparing him. Especially since we don't know where he's going or to whom."

Mickey's stomach twisted again at the words, "to who." He felt overcome by heat and the twisting in his stomach changed to a nasty, nauseating swirl.

"I can't do this. I need some air." He stood up and quickly left the apartment. He ran down the flight of stairs and out into the warm evening. He sat down on the steps of the building.

How was it possible that none of his friends wanted to help him fight this? How could everyone give up so easily? Give up on Ian so easily?

Was it really that impossible to fight a rescind order?

After ten minutes, Mickey heard the door open. Wes sat down beside him. The two sat in silence until Mickey finally spoke.

"What do you think I should do?"

Wes looked out at the street for a few minutes before answering.

"They're right. You have to prepare Ian for the worst. You can't let him walk around for the next six days thinking everything is fine only to be snatched away. That would be cruel. But..."

Wes turned and stared directly into Mickey's eyes.

"You could always run."

"Run?"

Wes nodded. "Just take off. Disappear. It won't be easy. You'll have to cut off all contact with all of us, even your dad. Especially your dad. You'll have to change your names and your appearance, and you'll have to go somewhere off the radar. A small town where you can hide. Maybe even head to another country. You'll have to be careful. Very, very careful. The Ministry will send trackers after you, and if they catch you..."

Going on the run.

Running versus losing Ian.

Both were unthinkable. If they ran and got caught, he'd lose Ian forever. Perlson would enjoy torturing him in a Ministry jail while Ian would be punished, and broken, and then sent back to his mother who would probably just punish him more.

But having Ian taken away...Mickey wasn't sure he could actually stand there and watch Ian get hauled away by a removal team.

"What would you do if it was Carmen?"

Wes sighed. "Right now, I really don't know. It would be hard to be on the run with a pregnant woman."

Mickey gasped. "Wes! Carmen's pregnant?"

Wes smiled. "Yeah. It didn't take long. She's due in February."

"Oh, Wes! Congratulations! Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, we weren't really talking and then all this happened so..."

Mickey nodded. "I understand. Um...do you still want me to be a Godfather?"

"Of course. And I'm really sorry about the call to Ian."

Mickey shook his head. "Forget it. You were just being a good friend. You've always been a good friend."

They sat in silence until they saw Rick and Rachel leading Ian, Seth and Finn down the street. Mickey watched Ian strolling along, laughing and bouncing in his happy, boyish way.

Content in the knowledge that his master would take care of everything.

He couldn't let Monica have Ian.

But if they ran and got caught...

Mickey had no idea what to do.

* * *

 _ **SATURDAY**_

Saturday morning Mickey announced they were going to the zoo. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he wanted to spend as much time as possible doing things Ian enjoyed. Just in case.

Chandler and Seth agreed to come along while Carol stayed at the apartment to wait for Frank. Wes decided to rest at the hotel. They would all go to Ian's favorite restaurant that evening.

Mickey walked along quietly, half listening to Ian carry on about the animals. He was locked in a war of competing strategies inside his mind.

Run.

Release.

Run.

Release.

He could either run and hope they didn't get caught, or release Ian pursuant to the rescind order.

Neither choice was a good one.

After walking around for awhile, they stopped for lunch by a pond. Mickey and Chandler watched Ian and Seth feed the ducks. After a few minutes of debate inside his head, Mickey decided to take a chance. He needed another opinion.

"What if we ran?"

"What?"

"What if Ian and I just disappeared?"

Mickey winced as Chandler tightly grasped his arm.

"No! You cannot do that, Mickey! It's out of the question! It's too dangerous!"

Mickey snatched his arm away. "I'm just thinking out loud."

"Well stop thinking about that. The Ministry trackers are relentless and evil. They'll find you and God knows what will happen. They'll probably turn you over to the Ministry immediately, but Ian...who knows what they would do to him before giving him to the Ministry. And then he would go to his mother and you would rot in a Ministry hell hole. No. Don't even consider running. It's too dangerous and you will get caught."

"But I can't just let him go! I'm his master! I swore to protect him with my life!"

"Then protect him! Protect him by sending him back to his mother. Follow the order. Don't risk his life by going on the run!"

"Sending him to his mother is not protecting him! It's signing his death sentence!"

"Don't be so over-dramatic. She has to have a reason for wanting him back, and I doubt it's to kill him."

Mickey shook his head. "You don't understand. You don't know Monica. All she cares about is business and making money. If having Ian murdered would make her a penny richer, she'd agree to it."

"That's a horrible thing to say about a mother towards her child."

"You don't know Monica. Are you really telling me that if you were in my situation, you would just let someone take Seth from you?"

"If it meant keeping him from being caught and abused by trackers? Yes."

They didn't talk about it anymore, but Mickey could feel Chandler's disapproval every time their eyes met.

* * *

When they returned from the zoo, Frank was waiting for them. He looked sad, tired and stressed. Mickey felt a surge of guilt. This couldn't be good for his dad's heart.

Carol asked Ian to sing her the songs he was working on. Once they were gone, father and son sat down to talk.

"I wish I had good news, but I don't. Apparently rescind orders are taken very, very seriously by almost everyone. They're seen as one of the strongest protections a slave has because the belief is that a parent will always do what's in the best interests of their child. People feel that a parent wouldn't just initiate an order on a whim. They figure there must be a really valid reason for a parent to actually take steps to break a claim."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "These people have obviously never met Monica Gallagher."

"That's another problem." Frank ran his hands across his forehead. Mickey's guilt increased. His father needed to rest.

"Monica has many friends. Friends who don't wanna cross her. I'm having a hard time finding anyone willing to pick a fight with her. Even those who think the Ministry could use more oversight, are hesitant to start with a case involving Monica Gallagher. On top of all that, the fact that there's an abuse allegation is not helping. It's making Monica look like she's doing the right thing. Being a good parent, protecting her son."

"So what you're saying is that there's nothing we can do. I'm supposed to just let her have Ian."

Frank's sigh was heavy and stress laden. "I'm sorry, Mickey, but I think the best thing to do is to follow the order and then we will work to get Ian back. Just because a slave is ordered to return to their parents, doesn't mean they have to stay there. Parents sometimes remove their children and then return them to the master once they feel comfortable, especially if that's what the child really wants. This doesn't have to be permanent. The most important thing right now is for you to follow the order. Following the order will keep you out of trouble with the Ministry. Send Ian back to his mother and then we will do everything possible to get him back."

"Unless she gives him to someone else."

Frank frowned. "You think that's what she plans to do?"

"How should I know? I don't understand why she wants him back in the first place. She has to be up to something."

Frank nodded. "I agree, but I can't imagine what. She's in the middle of a huge business expansion worth millions of dollars. It doesn't make sense that she would distract herself with something like this. Has Ian tried calling Lip?"

"Yes. He called him this morning, but the cell phone number didn't work. We plan to call his Michigan office on Monday to see if we can track him down."

The two sat in silence. Frank studied his son. He was so proud of Mickey. Proud of both the man and the master he'd become. Proud of his efforts to strengthen Ian. It was unheard of for a master to strengthen his slave, but Mickey had done just that. Frank's heart broke as he thought about the pain the boys were about to endure. It wasn't fair. Mickey didn't deserve this and neither did Ian.

"I'm sorry, Mickey. I'm sorry this is happening. I promise...I'll keep trying even after..." Frank trailed off. Mickey looked into his father's tired eyes...

And made his decision.

"It's okay, dad. Thanks for trying. I'll start getting Ian prepared."

Frank was a bit surprised. "You will?"

Mickey nodded. "Yes. It won't do Ian any good if I'm in a Ministry jail. I'll follow the order and then figure out my next move. Maybe I'll try suing her in court for his return. Make it a very public case. Business people don't like bad publicity, right?"

Frank nodded slowly as he looked at Mickey closely.

"So...you're not going to fight this?"

Mickey shook his head. "No. Right now I won't win, I don't want you to waste political capital, and I don't want Ian unprepared. I need to focus on getting him ready. I want this to be as painless as possible and let's face it, that's probably impossible."

Mickey stared directly into his father's eyes. Frank stared back.

Was Mickey being honest with him?

"I have to think of Ian. I can't waste anymore time."

Frank nodded. "I know this is going to be devastating, but you're doing the right thing, Mickey. You're doing the smart thing. I'm proud of you for being so mature in the face of an awful situation."

"Thanks dad."

K&B&K&B

After dinner they walked to the ice cream store. While Ian, Seth and Finn were preoccupied, Mickey told Wes, Chandler and Rachel his decision. They all grew quiet and Rachel blinked back tears. Chandler patted Mickey's back and nodded.

"I know this is going to be horrible, but you're doing the right thing."

Mickey nodded, but said nothing.

Wes caught his eye. The two stared at each other.

Wes slowly nodded. He knew the truth.

Everyone agreed to leave Mickey and Ian alone for the next few days so Mickey could concentrate on Ian. As soon as he heard from the Ministry, Mickey would text everyone the time of Ian's departure and they would all come over to see him off.

They walked back to Mickey and Ian's building and stood outside hugging each other. Wes had stopped at an ATM machine on the walk back. His flight was scheduled to leave early in the morning. He hugged Mickey and slid $500 into his pocket as he whispered in his ear.

"Don't argue with me. Just take it. You will need to be careful taking out large deposits between now and...then. Don't act too out of the ordinary. Don't contact anyone until you're sure it's safe. Take care of him and yourself. I love you both so damn much."

Mickey nodded. "Thank you. We love you too. Give our love to Carmen and the baby."

Mickey watched everyone leave, his heart breaking as he fought back tears. He knew it was better this way. Safer for him and Ian, and safer for their friends. They could honestly claim they didn't know.

Ian was watching him closely. He could sense Mickey's sadness.

"What is it?"

Mickey took his hand. "Come on. We need to talk."

First they showered. Mickey always liked to start with a shower. He liked to think of it as a clean slate.

They each put on just a pair of boxers and sat down, cross-legged, across from each other on the floor of their bedroom. Mickey reached over and cupped Ian's cheek. He leaned forward and kissed him. As was their way, one kiss turned into several. Soft, comforting and sweet. Mickey forced himself to pull back and look into Ian's eyes. Ian's eyes were full of love, trust and confidence. Confidence that Mickey knew what he was doing. He took Ian's hands in his.

"We need to make a decision."

Ian looked confused. We?

"The consequences of this decision are too important for me to make alone. Especially since the impact to you will be huge. This should be your decision as well as mine."

"Okay."

"We have two choices. We can stay here and on Thursday the Ministry will send someone to come get you and take you back to your mother...or we can run."

"Run?"

"Yes. Run. Disappear. But you need to understand how dangerous that is. The Ministry will send hunters, trackers to find us and if they catch us, I'll go to jail and you will be punished and then sent to your mother."

"Y-you'll go to jail? A ministry jail?"

"Yes, but I'm willing to take the chance. The idea of losing you...just giving you over without a fight...I don't think I can do that. I can't watch them take you from me."

"But I don't want you to go to jail! If we run, what are our chances?"

"I have no way of knowing that, but I'm willing to take the risk if you want to."

Ian tried to process everything Mickey had just said.

The idea of returning to his mother terrified him. He had no idea why she wanted him, but he was sure it couldn't be good. Then a thought struck him.

"When they come to get me, will you remove my collar? Will you unclaim me?"

Mickey did not hesitate. "No. I refuse to unclaim you. You're mine. No matter what they do, you are mine. You belong to me."

Ian's submission stirred as Mickey's dominance flashed through him.

"Yes. I only serve you. I only want to serve you. I love serving you."

Mickey knew they really needed to make a decision, but he couldn't resist the look in Ian's eyes. He stood up and pulled down his boxers. Ian rose up on his knees, threw his head back and opened his mouth. Mickey was in a dark, dominant mood. He jerked Ian's head back further and pushed his cock all the way down Ian's throat, choking him. Ian struggled to adjust as Mickey fucked his mouth hard and fast.

"Ugh! Take it, my love. Take it. Accept it. All of it."

Ian loved when Mickey choked him like this. The combination of serving his master and being so severely dominated, fed his submission in the most perfect way. He welcomed the cum spilling down his throat.

Mickey pulled out, dropped to his knees and planted his mouth on Ian's, kissing him hungrily. He fell back and pulled Ian on top of him.

"In me. Need you in me."

Ian scrambled to grab the lube from the nightstand. He slicked up his throbbing cock and started to slide his fingers into Mickey's ass. Mickey grabbed his hand.

"No. Fuck me. Hard. Now."

"I don't wanna..."

"Now, Ian. Hard."

Ian never disobeyed an order. He slammed into Mickey and felt strangely turned on by Mickey's painful cry. He kept pushing into him, every thrust hard, forceful and angry. Ian grabbed Mickey's hands and pinned them to the mattress. He stared into Mickey's dark, lustful blue eyes and fucked the hell out of him. Mickey dug his nails into Ian's back and yelled as Ian pounded into him harder and harder. He didn't bother to ask for permission. He simply came with a growling scream. He lay on top of Mickey, panting, his breath warm against Mickey's neck. Mickey tightened his arms around him and allowed himself to relax. He was almost asleep when he heard Ian's voice.

"Let's run."

* * *

They were going on the run.

They would leave 4:00 am Tuesday morning.

They would take the bus from the city to Woods Hole, Massachusetts where they would change their appearance.

Mickey would become Karen and Ian would become Blake.

"You're really going to dress like a girl?"

"Just for awhile. I definitely identify as a man, but I'll admit to a desire to try out a few...feminine ensembles. Now's my chance."

Ian smiled sexily. "So do I call you ma'am instead of sir?"

Mickey took his foot and placed it on Ian crotch. He started rubbing up and down.

"You will call me, master."

Ian moaned. Mickey smirked. "I didn't know you had a foot fetish. I'll remember that." He pulled his foot away much to Ian's disappointment.

"Okay, so what happens after Woods Hole?"

"I'm not sure. We'll either head to Martha's Vineyard or continue up towards Canada."

"Shouldn't we disguise ourselves before leaving?"

"No. If anyone sees us, we want them to give a description of us leaving, not Karen and Blake."

"Can I change my name?"

"To what?"

"Luke."

Mickey arched an eyebrow. "Luke?"

"Yeah. Luke. Like Luke Skywalker."

Mickey rolled his eyes but smiled. "Okay...Luke. In that case, I guess I'll be Liza."

Mickey began making a list of what they would need. He planned to dye Ian's hair blonde, while he would become a redhead. He would put fake tattoos on Ian's calves and forearms and dress him in baggy shorts and oversized t-shirts. A skateboarder look. He wanted Karen to be classy, but decided that wouldn't work on the run, so instead she would be more trailer park, wannabe classy.

Mickey was so engrossed in his lists and planning, that he didn't notice what Ian was googling on his iPad, or Ian's alternating expressions of shock, disgust, and fear.

"We should be able to get everything we need at Carla's Costume House. We can only take one bag each and only the necessities. I'll take out money at 4:30 pm on Monday. Hopefully no one's monitoring my account. I'll get our bus tickets tomorrow."

"Sir?"

"Hmm?"

"Mickey?"

Mickey looked up. "What's wrong?"

Ian showed Mickey his iPad. On the screen was a picture of a naked man wearing a hood. He was chained to a wall in what looked like a dark and dirty room. His body was covered in deep, bloody lash marks. Underneath the caption read:

 _Ministry jails are known for their harsh, punishing treatment of masters who have broken the law. Brutal beatings and rough torture are part of the daily schedule._

The next image showed a badly beaten man locked in a small, dirty cage.

 _Masters are kept in cages smaller than the regulation size cages for slaves. The cages are never cleaned, thus the sickening and vomit inducing smell of urine and..._

Mickey grabbed the iPad and clicked to the home screen. He didn't say anything.

"Sir...I can't...we can't...if we get caught..."

"We won't get caught."

"Yes we will! I read about it. The trackers never give up. Once they're assigned someone to find, they hunt until they find them. They never stop searching and they always find their prey. Always."

"We won't get caught!"

"You don't know that! You admitted that you don't know that! There's a chance we might, and if we are...I can't let you be tortured because you wanted to save me! Regardless of what my mother is up to, it can't be as horrible as you suffering in one of those disgusting cages!"

"This isn't your decision."

"You said it was my decision. Our decision."

"Well not anymore! I'm willing to take the chance. I can't...I can't just let them take you. I can't, Ian. Not without a fight."

"Then we'll fight a different way, but not by running. It's too risky. We get caught, I end up with my mother, and you end up in a filthy cage being beaten everyday? No! I'd die knowing you were going through that. Please master...I don't wanna run."

"We're running."

"Please..."

"No! We're running and you will obey me."

Ian slowly moved to his knees. He lowered his eyes, folded his hands and spoke very quietly. "Please? Please master? As your obedient and devoted slave, I beg you. Please don't make me run away. I love you so much. Please don't make me do this. Please?"

In six years, Ian had never begged him not to do something.

Mickey put his face in his hands and finally, for the very first time, he cried. Really cried. Full on, completely broke down, sobbing, snot-running crying. Ian wrapped his arms around him and together they sat there bawling, their bodies shaking as all the fear and stress came pouring out.

"I c-can't...I c-can't...I can't let them take you..."

"We don't have a ch-choice. I w-won't let you go to jail."

They cried until they were exhausted. They lay there holding each other. Ian spoke quietly.

"You told me once that it wouldn't have mattered if you came to Dalton or not. You still would have found me... eventually. You saved me, Mickey. You saved me from drowning. You gave me strength and the ability to stand up for myself. Now, I have to save you and believe that everything will work out and that we will be together. Eventually."

They lay in silence. Mickey fell asleep. Ian quietly slipped out of bed. He checked the doors, turned out the lights, brushed his teeth and returned to bed. Before climbing in, he picked up Mickey's iPad and looked at the list Mickey had been working on.

He hit delete.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _ **SUNDAY**_

Mickey dropped _The_ _Ministry's Guide to Preparing Your Slave for Removal_ in the trash.

There was no way he was following its recommendations. They would turn their last days together into a painfest.

Chandler strongly disapproved.

Despite the plan to leave Mickey and Ian alone until Thursday, Chandler called to see if Seth could come over for a quick visit. He wasn't handling the idea of losing Ian very well. Mickey could relate.

When they arrived, Chandler immediately noticed Ian's collar and bracelets. He looked at Mickey who stared back defiantly, arms folded in his signature stubborn stance. His expression was clear.

Not gonna do it.

The moment they were alone, Chandler started in on him.

"You're being selfish, Mickey. You need to remove his collar and start pushing him back into his natural state of submission. From everything you've described, Monica Gallagher is not going to appreciate the new and improved Ian. You need to weaken him."

"Do you hear yourself? I mean, seriously? Did you hear what you just said to me? Ian is about to be ripped from me and sent back to his evil, bitch mother, and you want me to make him weak!"

"She's going to expect him to submit! What do you think she's going to do when he starts talking back and refusing to follow commands?"

"Maybe she'll get pissed off and send him back to me!"

Chandler shook his head. "You're being unreasonable! Selfish, stubborn and completely irresponsible!"

"I don't care! I'm not spending my last few days with him putting him through hell!"

"You know what, Mickey? Now, you are abusing him."

Chandler stood up and walked to the door.

"Seth! Come!"

Seth immediately came running from the Broadway Room followed by Ian. The power of Chandler's voice made Seth fall to the floor at Chandler's feet. Ian looked between Chandler and Mickey. Mickey looked shocked and hurt while Chandler looked furious.

"What happened?"

Chandler's face softened. "We'll see you on Thursday, Ian. Seth, stand." Chandler shot another look at Mickey and walked out. Seth gave Ian a sad, confused look and quickly followed his master.

Ian turned to ask Mickey what happened, but Mickey's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mickey E. Milkovich?"

"Yes?"

"This is Ursula with the Division of Slave Removal. I'm calling to inform you that sub slave Ian V. Gallagher will be removed from your care on Thursday at 11:00 am. Please have him prepared and ready per the instruction manual. Do you have any questions?"

Mickey clenched the phone. "No."

"Very good. Have a nice day."

Mickey hung up and threw the phone across the room.

This was a nightmare. One long, painful nightmare that he couldn't seem to wake up from or escape.

Ian walked over and fell to his knees in front of him.

"What's wrong? What happened with Chandler?"'

Mickey stared into Ian's eyes. "They're coming for you at 11:00 am. 11:00 am on Thursday."

Ian nodded. "Okay."

"No! It's not okay! None of this is okay! This is wrong, and unfair, and I don't wanna do it! I can't do this!"

Ian took his hands. "We have to do this. You can't go to jail."

Mickey shook his head. "No. There has to be something. Something, someone, someway to keep you safe. Maybe we can hide you. Hide you somewhere they can't find you."

"And then you'll go to jail. I'm not going to run, or hide, or do anything that will get you in trouble. I love you and I'm willing to leave to keep you out of jail. I'd do anything to keep you out of jail. I'd do anything to protect you."

"That's supposed to be my job! I'm your master! I'm your master and I'm failing you! I should have sent you away! The moment Perlson started showing up at people's houses, I should have sent you away."

Ian shook his head. "Where would you have sent me? Who would you have given me to? Wes? Rick? Kevin? So they could get in trouble? There's nowhere for me to go. Nowhere but back to my mother."

Mickey felt his heart break. It had been breaking little by little, crack by tiny crack since Thursday night. He was sure it would break completely and fall from his chest on Thursday at 11:00 am.

"What happened with Chandler?"

Mickey scowled. "Just reminding me of yet another way in which I'm failing you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm supposed to remove your collar."

Ian's eyes filled with fear. Mickey quickly continued.

"But I'm not going to. I don't care what they say, or what Chandler says. I'm not removing it. I am not unclaiming you. Removing it would be like saying I'm willingly giving you away, and I'm not. They're stealing you from me."

"Will my mother be able to remove it?"

"I don't think so."

Ian relaxed and smiled. She'd be furious, but he didn't care. He belonged to Mickey.

Mickey placed his hands on Ian's shoulders and smiled. "Enough about all that. What do you wanna do? From now on we will do whatever you want."

Ian's eyes fluttered to Mickey's crotch. "I want to serve you as much as possible."

Mickey's cock hardened. "I want that too, but what else? Where do you wanna go? We will go anywhere you want and you can have anything you want."

"I want to go to the bedroom and I want to have your dick."

Mickey's eyes turned a deep blue. His voice lowered. "What else?"

"I...I want you to punish me. Hard. I want you to fuck me until I can't breathe. I want to feel it long after I leave, and I want to be on top of you...inside you, but mostly I want you to punish me. Treat me like your slave because I am your slave. No matter what, my submission is yours."

Well.

Mickey swallowed and tried to focus as his hands edged towards his zipper.

"But don't you want to go out? You're about to go back to Ohio. Don't you want to visit your favorite places in New York?"

"My favorite place is wherever you are. My favorite thing to do is submit to you. Everything I want is right here."

Ian gently pushed Mickey's legs apart and pressed his face to his crotch. "Please...please choke me with your cock...please fuck me until I break. I want to be able to feel you...for weeks, months...forever. Fuck me so the ache never goes away."

Mickey took a deep breathe. "Anything you want, my love. Anything you want."

Mickey sent everyone a text to be at their place on Thursday by 10:00 am. He turned off his phone, put on his catwoman suit and focused on Ian.

* * *

 _ **MONDAY**_

They spent Sunday afternoon and Monday locked in a lovely, yet fierce sexual fantasy of their own creation as they returned to the sexual games of their first year together. Ian's year of training. That year had been the most emotionally and sexually intense experience of their lives. Mickey had been mercilessly wicked, but always grounded in strong, pure love and adoration for Ian. He had brutally, yet lovingly broken Ian down to the bones of his submissive core before carefully rebuilding him. Infusing him along the way with strength and confidence,while still maintaining his complete and total submission to his master. By the end of that first year, Ian was able to look other masters in the eye and say no, while one look from Mickey could bring him to his knees.

They were both glad to go back in time. The past was so much better than their present and immediate future.

They followed their normal morning routine. Ian would wake, shower and present himself at Mickey's bedside by 6:58 am. Mickey would wake, allow Ian to blow him, and then the real fun would begin.

Mickey locked Ian in a tight, punishing cock trainer cage while wrapping his balls in tight black leather before adding a light ball weight in the shape of a K. Mickey relished Ian's deep moans and cries as he closed his eyes and allowed his entire body and mind to relax into his full and complete submission. He was a slave. He was the property of Master Mickey, and he would willingly and happily accept any and everything his master wanted to do to him. Complete submission to his master filled him with an indescribable joy. Drowning in submission to Mickey was the best feeling in the world.

Ian remained on his hands and knees at all times. Mickey followed up all of his commands with a sharp smack to Ian's ass with the riding crop. Ian both loved and loathed the riding crop. It was such a simple, yet evil toy. Especially when wielded by Mickey's lovely, slender fingers.

After freeing Ian's cock and balls, Mickey sat down on the couch and made Ian kneel on all fours, facing forward, his ass on display for Mickey. Mickey propped one foot up on Ian's back while he pretended to watch television. He gently rubbed his foot on Ian ass, even sliding it between his legs to tickled his balls with his toes. After a few minutes he started to tease Ian's hole with the tip of the crop, dragging it across Ian's ass, and teasing his balls. Once his hole was dripping wet from self lubrication, Mickey slowly slid the crop into Ian's ass. The noise Ian made was indefinable.

"Ian, my love, you sound like a wounded animal."

Ian couldn't help it. He couldn't stop the strange, loud sounds that came from deep within his submissive core. Being fucked by a riding crop by his master? Obediently accepting whatever was done to him because he was nothing more than a slave? The feeling of euphoria was almost too much, especially when coupled with the sexual torture being created by the crop. It was hard and thin, and the way Mickey worked it in his ass was delicious.

"I can't hear the television over you."

Ian kept moaning.

"Very well."

Mickey removed the crop and went to the bedroom. He returned with a soft, black, leather hood which he slid over Ian's head. It had a built in gag. Now Ian couldn't see or speak. He could breathe, but barely hear. The sensory deprivation intensified everything. Mickey returned to the couch, and resumed the slow torture to Ian's ass with the crop. Ian's body trembled and his cock quivered.

"You may not come, my love."

Mickey slowly slid the riding crop in, out, in,out. Occasionally he would slide it all the way out and graze it across Ian's balls before slowly sliding it back in. Finally he slowly slid it in, inch by inch until he hit Ian's prostate. Ian released a muffled scream. Mickey left the crop in place, stood up and walked around to stand in front of Ian. He pulled off the hood and stared at the gorgeous man at his feet. Ian's curls were wet, rivers of sweat trickled down his face, and his lips were full and moist, but what Mickey loved most of all were his eyes. Ian's beautiful honey-amber eyes were bright, and full of submission as they begged Mickey to dominate him even more.

"Do you want mercy, my love?"

"No! Please...use me. My submission is yours."

Mickey smiled. "You may not move and you may not come."

Mickey started the slow fuck with the riding crop again, making sure he just barely hit the right spot every time. Ian wailed as he struggled not to fuck himself on the crop. He could feel his control slipping away as the tension in his cock grew stronger and more demanding. Once he was sure Ian was about to break, Mickey slid the crop inside his ass and left it there. He sat down on the floor in front of Ian and leaned back on his hands, his cock bouncing right by Ian's mouth.

"Serve me."

Ian obediently and eagerly swallowed the cock. His submission was on fire. The act of sucking his Dom master's cock with a riding crop shoved up his ass...it was all too much. He knew the moment he tasted Mickey's cum he would explode.

Mickey looked and sounded beautiful as he came hard, head thrown back, his long, lean torso tight as he arched his hips up and pushed his cock further into Ian's mouth.

Ian came with a muffled scream around the cock in his mouth. Mickey pulled out and relaxed for a few minutes. Ian was breathing hard and moaning, still on all fours. It felt so good to finally come, but he knew he was in trouble. It had been a long time since he'd come without permission.

Mickey stood up. "After all these years you disobey me? Honestly, Ian."

Ian hung his head, his eyes on the floor. "I'm sorry, sir."

Mickey smiled. "Oh, no you aren't. At least not yet."

Ian spent the next hour bound, plugged, gagged and locked in his cage. His cock twitched inside the cock trainer, as his ass clinched around the large, tight butt plug. He stared lovingly at Mickey who was lying naked across the bed, flipping through Vogue.

How would he survive without this? Without him?

The idea of living without Mickey to control him was frightening,while the thought of his mother dominating him was terrifying. He was sure she would crush him and stomp him into the ground.

And there would be no love to rebuild him.

He didn't want to think about that. Not now. For now he wanted to suffer through Mickey's demanding punishment. Mickey shifted on the bed giving Ian a lovely view of his thick cock, slightly hard, but relaxed on his upper thigh. Ian's body involuntarily convulsed causing the plug to caress his prostate and his cock to twitch inside the trainer. He cried out around the gag in his mouth.

Mickey looked up. "I told you to remain quiet." He picked up the control for the plug and turned on the vibration. Ian squealed around the gag.

"Quiet, Ian or else I will add nipple clamps to your experience."

Ian made sure he screamed as loud as he could manage.

K&B&K&B

At 5:00 pm they shifted from intense, punishing, sex play, to relaxed cuddling and nurturing. Ian napped while Mickey prepared dinner. After dinner they cuddled together in bed.

As Mickey pressed his purr spot, Ian started to cry.

Who would press his purr spot after Thursday? He buried his head in Mickey's chest.

"You are my master. Only you. I don't wanna leave you. I never wanna leave you. I love you. I love you so much."

Mickey held him close and allowed his own tears to fall. He had no comforting words to share. Instead he rolled on to his back and pulled Ian on top of him. Despite Chandler's arguments, Mickey wanted Ian strong. Strong enough to deal with whatever was coming. Deep down inside he knew that Ian would eventually weaken and return to his natural submissiveness without Mickey to nurture him, but for now he would do all he could to make Ian as strong as possible. He spread his legs and stared into Ian's eyes.

"I want to feel you forever. Make it last."

Ian started slowly, savoring the drag on his cock and the depth of Mickey's ass. But soon he sped up and was screwing into Mickey with as much force as Mickey had screwed him. It was Mickey's turn to scream and wail as Ian fucked into him. He felt stronger and more powerful with each push. Mickey could feel his strength growing and it gave him a great sense of satisfaction. Monica was definitely in for a surprise.

* * *

 _ **TUESDAY**_

Tuesday was fucking table day. Ian stared at the table with longing. He would definitely miss this piece of furniture more than anything else in the apartment except for his cage and the piano.

Mickey bolted him to the table in the most sadistic way ever. Ian was on his knees, with his arms pulled between his legs so his ankles and wrists were next to each other. It was a cruel position that made sure he would feel every single stroke of Mickey's cock to the fullest.

Mickey pushed into Ian with an aggression and force Ian had never felt before, causing him to scream from the shock and intensity. Mickey mercilessly fucked into him. Every thrust stronger, rougher and more brutal. Ian screamed and cried out, begging. More. More. More.

And Mickey was determined to give it to him. He wanted Ian to feel it for however long it took to get him back. He knew this was unrealistic and probably a little sadistic, but he didn't care. He fucked Ian over, and over with an insatiable hunger. Each time hard and with a viciousness that would be considered cruel if Ian wasn't begging for it so desperately.

He finally released him from the table and they moved to the bed. Ian had permission to come at will. Soon their bodies were glistening with cum, sweat and tears. Every time they came, they held each other tight and cried, overwhelmed by their intense orgasms and the fact that in a few days, they would be forced apart. The thoughts of leaving made Ian beg Mickey to fuck him again, and again, and again.

They finally fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. Their bodies a tangle of arms and legs wrapped around the other, sticky and wet. Ian's mind was completely gone, consumed by his submission. Mickey knew he had gone overboard, but he didn't care. He couldn't help it. He wanted Ian so badly. He needed him. He had no idea what he was going to do without him. Ian's submission was a powerful drug. Withdrawal was going to be hell.

After sleeping for a few hours, they lay in bed and talked.

They tried to keep their conversation happy and light, but it was difficult. Ian wondered who Rick would find to help him complete the musical. He encouraged Mickey to continue with the show, but Mickey wasn't sure he'd be able to. How was he supposed to do anything without Ian?

Ian decided to get his packing out of the way. He wasn't allowed to take anything with him on Thursday, so Mickey told him to pack a trunk and he would ship it to his mother's house.

Mickey found it increasingly harder to breathe as he watched Ian pack his sheet music and writing books.

How were they supposed to do this?

How were they supposed to live without the other?

Mickey grew desperate and hysterical. "Let's just leave! Let's go! Now! We'll just run and run and run..."

"No. I won't let you go to jail."

"I can't do this! I can't! I can't! I can't..."

They held each other and cried until Ian started kissing Mickey's tears away. He kissed and licked Mickey's cheeks, working his way down his neck and chest. He gently pushed Mickey back on the bed and began to work his way down his body, worshiping him with his tongue. He softly licked at Mickey's hole before sliding in two fingers while sliding his mouth down Mickey's cock. He sucked and twisted his fingers for a few moments before pulling out to grab the lube. He prepped himself and slid inside his master. As they made love, Mickey whispered to Ian.

"You are my beautiful slave. Mine. Your submission is to me and me alone. I command you to refuse all others. You do not have to submit to or respect any other master. Submission to others is an insult to me, the one who loves you more than anything. Prove your love for me, your honor towards me. Never submit to another, Ian. Never."

"Yes master."

* * *

 _ **WEDNESDAY**_

They spent Wednesday morning in bed, mostly making love with an occasional fuck thrown in for good measure. Always with Ian on top. While Mickey would never allow Ian to bolt him to the fucking table or chain him up in any way, he did allow Ian to bend him over the couch and fuck the hell out of him. Every time Ian fucked him, Mickey felt it reinforced and sealed his words of strength and submission to Ian. He just hoped it was enough to sustain him until he could come back home.

"How are you going to get me back?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I will. I promise. I will get you back."

Ian smiled and curled into Mickey. Mickey could hear Chandler yelling at him in his head. _Whatever you do, don't tell him he's coming back home. He needs to be able to accept whatever his mother has in store for him. Don't set him up._

Mickey squashed the voice.

They finally dragged themselves out of bed and out of the apartment for lunch at Ian's favorite deli and a very slow stroll through Central Park. When they returned home, Ian sang and played piano while Mickey made dinner. As Ian's voice floated through the apartment, Mickey cried into the salad he was trying to make.

How would he survive tomorrow?

* * *

 _ **WEDNESDAY NIGHT**_

Their last night together.

Ian lay spread out on the bed, eyes closed, purring under Mickey's touch. Mickey was slowly caressing Ian's body with his fingertips. He started in the center of Ian's forehead, moving his fingers down either side of his face, around and over his ears, down the jawline to his neck and over his Adam's apple. From there his hands spread across Ian's smooth chest, fingers lingering on his nipples causing them to harden into tiny, firm, pink peaks. He continued the journey down to the V entrance of Ian's groin. He moved lightly around the groin area to Ian's thighs, to his knees, down to his ankles, over his feet to the tips of his toes. He repeated the path with his hands, open palmed, his touch gentle, yet firm.

He did this for a full hour.

Memorization.

He already knew ever crook, blemish, scratch and line of Ian's body, but he felt compelled to review. Over and over and over again. He had to be sure. Completely, totally, without a doubt sure that he would never forget the feel of Ian.

Once he was sure his hands could trace the path from memory, he attacked Ian with his mouth.

He started with the obvious. He pulled Ian's head back, exposing the smooth, olive skin of his neck, and began to suck. Large, purple passion marks followed by small ones, each only inches a part. He worked his way down his chest, sucking, nibbling and licking, marking Ian's body. Ian moaned under Mickey's hard and urgent sucks. Soon his body was covered with tiny bruises as if he'd been beaten.

Mickey wasn't done.

He retraced his mouth work, biting the places he couldn't bruise. Ian trembled as Mickey bit into his skin, pressing to the last point of drawing blood, but hard enough to leave deep marks.

Last, he rolled Ian over on to his stomach. He stared at his clean, muscular back. He bent down and whispered in his ear.

"This may hurt."

Ian shook his head. He didn't care. He wanted every last inch of his body to reflect Mickey's ownership.

Mickey dug his nails into the skin just below the nape of Ian's neck, right where the back begins. He scratched straight down to Ian's waist. Ian hissed and arched up before settling back down on his stomach. Mickey created long, thin, angry red welts down Ian's back spelling the letters, Mickey. He licked and kissed the scars, easing the sting.

He slowly rolled Ian back over. Ian winced as his raw back rubbed against the sheets, but he quickly forgot the pain as Mickey swallowed his cock. Ian threw his head back and groaned as Mickey alternated between sucking his cock and running his tongue over Ian's sensitive hole, darting in and out, thrusting in further with each entry. Mickey took his time as he concentrated on the moans and gasps coming from Ian. Once more he focused on memorization. He needed to be able to replay the sounds in his mind like a recording.

They took turns making love to one another. Gentle, slow and deeply emotional as they stared into each others eyes, their tears hitting their chests like raindrops.

Mickey pressed his body into Ian's and felt their connection deepen and strengthen. He was sure the instruction manual would not approve of such actions the night before removal, but he didn't give a shit.

They only had a few hours left.

* * *

 _ **THURSDAY**_

Mickey woke up at 6 am.

5 hours left.

His body felt paralyzed by dread and heartbreak.

5 hours. He would lose Ian in 5 hours.

Mickey tightened his grip on Ian. He buried his face in Ian's hair and inhaled deeply. He wanted to bottle his scent. Would there come a time when he couldn't smell Ian anymore? The thought made his stomach churn and his chest tighten.

Ian stirred and Mickey reluctantly loosened his grip. This was their last morning together. He wanted Ian to have routine.

Mickey watched him climb out of bed and walk to the bathroom. He felt a strong sense of satisfaction as his eyes wandered over Ian's body. The marks, bites and scratches had settled into Ian's skin along with several bruises from three days of rough sex. His entire body was covered with Mickey's possession marks.

Ian paused at the door of the bathroom.

"What is it?"

"I really don't wanna take a shower. I don't wanna wash you off me."

Mickey smiled sadly and climbed out of bed.

Just like that first night six years ago, they showered together, each taking turns gently washing the other. When they were finished, Mickey lingered in the bathroom. When he came out, Ian was on his knees at the side of the bed, hands folded, eyes on the floor. Mickey walked over and stood in front of him. Ian looked up. Mickey blinked back tears as he took out his cock and pressed it to Ian's lips.

This would be the last morning they did this.

Mickey forced himself to hold off coming. Instead he stood very still and concentrated on the feel of Ian's mouth. His tongue, his lips, the expert way he did everything perfectly to create the most amazing sensations. Mickey came quietly, tears rolling down his face. Ian stood up and kissed the tears away.

"Serving you has been my greatest joy."

"Dominating you has been mine."

Mickey took out a pair of jeans and a simple white t-shirt for Ian to wear. Ian hesitated pulling up the boxers and pants. He looked at Mickey and then remembered. There would be no cock cage today.

Mickey took a deep breath and stopped himself from falling down in a fit of tears. He needed to be strong for Ian.

"You should eat."

They slowly walked to the kitchen. Ian winced as he moved his sore body. Yes. He would definitely feel Mickey for weeks. Hopefully longer. Mickey took down the Apple Jacks and poured Ian a large bowl. He filled it with milk and sat down.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Mickey shook his head. He couldn't eat. If he did it would all come back up.

Ian stared at the bowl of cereal.

"Eat, Ian." Mickey commanded.

Ian obediently started eating. Mickey glanced at the clock. 7:30 am.

Once Ian finished, they went back to the bedroom. They changed the sheets, made the bed, and then Ian laid down on his back. Mickey climbed on top of him and pressed his body tightly against his.

No, definitely not following Ministry rules.

Over the past three days, Ian had drowned over and over in submission to Mickey. His will had completely disappeared, replaced with nothing but a desire to serve, please and be used by his master. But Mickey's dominate mind and possessive side needed to feel Ian drown one final time. Once more, Ian succumbed to the intense pull and bond of his master. Mickey pressed harder and felt his dominance rise, swell and spread into Ian, completely taking over his thoughts and replacing them with pure, deep submission and full surrender.

"Who do you belong to? I want the formal answer."

"I am the fully owned property of Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich. He is my master. I live to serve him and him alone."

"Will you submit to another, my love?"

"Never, sir. I only submit to you."

They drifted off to sleep until they were awakened by the door buzzer. Mickey glanced at the clock.

9:45 am.

It was Rachel and Finn along with Chandler and Seth. Chandler stared at Ian.

Shit.

He could see it in his eyes. Mickey had completely ravaged and consumed Ian. His submission to Mickey was so strong, Chandler could practically smell it. He could also sense Ian's strength. Instead of breaking Ian to prepare him for what was coming, Mickey had fed him and brought him to full power. He eyed Ian's collar and bracelets. What the fuck?

Mickey was watching Chandler stare at Ian. He knew what he was thinking and he didn't care. Chandler looked at him, but then quickly looked away. He wasn't going to start a fight with Mickey. Not today. Besides, it didn't matter what he thought. It was too late to change anything.

No one knew what to say or do, so they simply sat. Ian was curled completely into Mickey, one leg thrown over Mickey's lap, his face buried in Mickey's shoulder. Mickey rubbed his back and tried to stay calm.

Wes and Carmen arrived at 10:15 am. When they decided not to run, Mickey called Wes to break the news and return the $500.00. Wes was disappointed, but also relieved. Running would have been a huge risk.

Frank and Carol arrived. Frank was on his cell phone, still trying desperately to find someone in the Masters Ministry who would intervene. Mickey knew it was hopeless when his father threatened to blow up the ministry's headquarters before slamming his phone down on the kitchen counter. Carol rubbed his back in an effort to calm him down. Frank looked at Mickey through tired eyes, red and filled with pain at the sight of his son and his slave. Frank focused closer on Ian. His eyes moved from Ian's neck to his wrists. Ian was still wearing his collar and bracelets. What the hell?

"Uh, Mickey? Could I speak with you privately for a moment?"

Mickey reluctantly stood up. Ian whined. "I'll be right back." He followed his dad into the bedroom.

"Why is Ian still wearing his collar and bracelets?"

"Because he's my slave."

"Mickey...you gotta take those off."

"No."

"They're going to cut them off. When he gets to the Slave Recovery Center, they will cut them off. If you take them off now you'll get to keep them."

Mickey shook his head. "No, I won't unclaim him."

"Mickey..."

"No! He's mine! Mine! If I take them off it means I'm unclaiming him. Releasing him! Giving him up, and I'm not doing that! They're stealing him from me and I want them to see that! I don't care what the rescind rule says! They're stealing him! He's mine and they're stealing him! They're stealing him! They're stealing him! They're stealing him!"

Mickey broke down.

He screamed and sobbed as Frank wrapped his arms around him and tried to blink back his own tears. He wanted to be strong for his son, but his heart was breaking.

Ian ran in, scared by the screaming. Mickey pulled him to him and wrapped his arms around him. Wes came in and pushed them into the living room where everyone gathered around them in a huge group hug. They all just stood there, enveloping Mickey and Ian in a tight circle of love. It was quiet except for the sound of Mickey and Ian's heart-wrenching sobs and everyone's quiet crying.

10:55 am

"Mickey...we need to go downstairs. You don't want this to happen in your home."

Mickey shook his head. "No. No. I can't do this. He's mine. He's mine."

"Mickey..."

"No. No. I can't. I won't."

"Son...please."

"No! They can't have him!"

Wes placed a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "Mickey, it won't do Ian any good if you end up in jail or worse."

The group slowly made their way outside to the sidewalk. Ian and Mickey held a death grip on each other. Everyone gathered around them in a protective circle. The day was sunny and bright, the air warm, but thick with the weight of what was about to happen.

At exactly 11:00 am a black, windowless van with silver tires pulled up. Two huge men stepped out. As one of the men approached, the circle around Mickey and Ian tightened.

"Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich?" Mickey said nothing. Frank shot him a look and then spoke.

"He's here." The man stared at Mickey and Ian. Ian had his face buried in Mickey's chest while Mickey's arms were still wrapped around him in a punishingly tight embrace. The man glanced at their necks and zeroed in on Ian.

"Ian Victor Gallagher?" Ian said nothing.

"I'm here to execute rescind order 218-Gallagher, Ian V., as initiated by Monica Ramken Gallagher and approved by the Masters Ministry. The order instructs the removal of sub slave Ian Victor Gallagher from Dom Master Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich on the grounds of parental privilege. Said slave is to be released immediately to the custody of the state for return to his mother."

Neither Mickey or Ian moved. The man sighed.

"Look, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way the slave's coming with us."

Mickey tightened his hold and shook his head. "No. No. Please. Don't do this."

"Sir, please release the slave."

"No. Please. Don't take him. He's mine. He's mine. Please!"

"Sir..."

"No!" Mickey started screaming. "No! You can't! You can't! Please! I didn't do anything wrong! I love him! He loves me! Please!"

Frank stepped forward, tears rolling down his cheeks. This was killing him. He hated this. He'd never felt so helpless and useless as a parent.

"Mickey...buddy...you have to...I'm sorry..."

"No!"

Ian clung to Mickey, crying and repeating over and over, "My master. My master. Mickey is my master. I love him. My master. My master. Mickey is my master."

The man glanced at his watch. Okay, enough of this. He had a schedule.

"Mr. Milkovich, please release the slave."

Mickey didn't move.

The man moved towards him. Wes and Finn stepped forward. Frank stepped in front of them as the second man stepped forward with a large AK-47 rifle. Frank couldn't let this tragedy get any worse.

"Everyone calm down. Mickey, son, I'm sorry but it's time."

They didn't let go of each other. Frank hated what he was about to do, but he couldn't let Mickey go to jail. He gave a slight nod to the man in charge. Frank placed his hand on Mickey's arm and tugged.

"Mickey..."

"No!"

Frank kept tugging as the hulking wall of a man stepped forward and roughly snatched Ian away from Mickey's grasp.

All hell broke loose.

Frank and Wes struggled to hold a screaming Mickey as he tried to break free and reach for Ian. Ian was screaming Mickey's name as he struggled in the man's grasp. Chandler was trying to calm down Seth who was crying and yelling "no" at the top of his lungs. Carmen, Rachel and Finn stood there crying while bypassers stopped to watch the scene, quietly wondering what Mickey had done to lose his slave.

"Ian! Ian! Please! Don't take him from me! Please don't take him! He's mine! Mine!"

"Mickey! Master! Mickey! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Mickey!

Ian was flailing and kicking, trying to break free. The man with the gun opened the back of the van. Ian was thrown inside a cage and the door swiftly closed. He grabbed the bars and tried to push.

"No! No! Mickey! I love you! I love you, Mickey! Let me out! Please! Mickey! Mickey! I love you! I love you! I love..."

The van door closed.

Mickey was on his knees, his arms outstretched. "Please! Please! Ian! I love you! I love you! I love you!"

The van pulled away.

Mickey fell to the ground.

"Blaaaaaainnnnneeeee!"

* * *

The cage was low and small. Ian couldn't stand so he folded himself into a tight little ball, wrapped his arms around himself and cried. With each passing minute and mile his fear grew until it was pounding painfully in his chest and throbbing in his head. He was exhausted but couldn't sleep from the fear. Instead he sang the song, "Perfect," by Pink in his head.

Finally the van slowed and seemed to be turning and twisting up hill. They came to a brief stop and then another before slowing down and stopping completely. Ian tensed and buried his face in his arms.

The van door swung open. Ian looked up and blinked from the blinding bright light. The cage door opened and two large hands pulled him out and placed him on his feet. A woman was standing in front of him with a clip board.

"Gallagher, Ian, V., sub slave?"

The man answered. "Yeah."

"How was extraction?"

He shrugged. "How are they ever?"

The woman looked Ian up and down taking in the marks and bites on his neck and arms. She stared at his collar.

"He's still collared."

"Yeah."

"Hmph. Alright. Let's get him sterilized and dressed. Please note the special orders regarding handling."

The man pushed Ian up a long platform that led inside a bright, white, circular room. He shoved him inside and left.

A woman wearing a crisp white plastic suit approached him.

"Hello. Undress please."

Ian stared at her. "Why?"

"It's part of the process."

"No."

The woman sighed. "Please take off your clothes."

Ian shook his head. "No."

The woman suddenly produced a large whip that she cracked through the air. Ian gasped and jumped back. He'd seen whips before. Chandler used them on Seth as punishment. Seth loved it. Ian couldn't understand why.

"You don't look like a bad slave. You actually look pretty obedient, so now is not the time to change your nature. I promise you that no one will hurt you as long as you do what you are told. Undress."

Ian shakily began removing his clothes. He stopped at his boxers.

"Everything please."

He blushed as he slid them down. The woman took his clothes, placed them in a bag and slid them down a chute. She looked his body over, and walked around him making notes. She handed him a pair of goggles.

"Put these on."

Ian stared at them but did not reach for them.

She sighed in annoyance. "They're to protect your eyes. Here."

Ian took them and put them on.

"Now walk through there into the next room. It's a shower chamber. You don't have to do anything. Just walk through and stand in the middle of the red circle. Try to relax. It's actually quite refreshing. If you relax it will feel nice."

Nothing would feel nice but being in Mickey's arms right now.

Ian walked through the door into the chamber. He stood inside the red circle. He was shocked when metal bars suddenly clamped over his feet, locking him in place. He heard the woman's voice through an intercom. "Arms out please."

He slowly raised his arms out to the side. Strong, warm water cascaded down from the ceiling and shot out from the walls. He wobbled a little as the floor began to slowly spin. It was like a car wash for a human. Long poles with brushes attached began to gently scrub his skin with soap. Metal fingers scrubbed his hair and scalp. He screamed when a strong shot of water was sprayed directly up his ass.

After 15 minutes of scrubbing, washing and rinsing, the water stopped and the metal bars released him.

"Enter the next room please."

Ian walked through the next door into a comfortable warm room. The woman appeared with a towel. "Give me the goggles. Dry yourself off." Ian obeyed. His skin felt smooth,tight and incredibly clean. The woman handed him a bottle of oil to rub all over his skin. The passion marks had faded, but were still there along with the bruises. Most of the bite marks had vanished.

"Enter the next room please."

There were three large men waiting. One was holding a strange metal tool in his hands. Ian looked at the three of them and then at the tool in the man's hand.

Fuck.

He started shaking his head and backing up towards the wall. The man holding the tool spoke.

"Kneel in the center of the room."

"No...please...please don't."

The man sighed and nodded at the other two men. They lunged forward and grabbed Ian, dragging him to the center of the room. Ian screamed and struggled. "No! Please! Don't! Please! I love Mickey! He's my master! Please! No! No! No!"

Ian screamed as one of the men shot him several times with a pain gun. He slumped in their arms as the man with the tool approached. He struggled, working the tool until he managed to snap through the expensive collar and then each bracelet. They let Ian fall to the floor.

It took a few minutes for the initial pain to hit. Since he wasn't released by his master, it wasn't as intense as it could have been, but it was intense enough. Ian struggled to breathe as the pain began as a slow burn in his submissive core. His head felt hazy and heavy. He could feel it slowly traveling through his body and wondered how much worse it would get.

He was allowed to lay on the floor for another 10 minutes before he heard the woman's voice.

"Enter the next room please."

He struggled to stand, almost falling until he steadied himself against the wall. He slowly reached up to touch his neck and hissed as if burned when he felt the skin where his collar had been for almost seven years.

In the next room he was given a pressed pair of khakis, a crisp while button down shirt, a black and white argyle cardigan and a matching tie. Everything fit perfectly as if it had been tailor made for him.

Once he was dressed the final door opened. He waited for the woman's voice but nothing happened. He stepped out of the room and was surprised to see himself standing in front of a huge, open hanger door. A man gestured to him. He walked down a small platform towards the man. Outside he could see a black limousine with a driver waiting.

"Ian Victor Gallagher?" Ian nodded.

The man handcuffed his wrists and nodded at the driver who stepped forward.

"He's free to go. Sign here."

The driver signed. "Come on."

Ian followed him to the car. The pain in his submissive core was growing worse. The driver helped him inside the car and handed him four pills and a bottle of water.

"Take them. They'll stop the pain and help you sleep."

Ian stared at the pills and looked at the driver. He didn't trust him, but he couldn't think clearly.

"Go on. Take them. Trust me. You'll be glad you did."

Ian swallowed the pills and laid down across the seat.

He was asleep before the car left the property.

An hour later the driver was shaking him. "Hey, wake up. Wake up."

Ian opened his eyes and sat up. The driver helped him out of the car and removed the handcuffs. They were standing a few feet from a private plane.

The pilot walked over. "You can go ahead and board."

Ian blinked and tried to clear his head. "Where are we going?"

The pilot shook his head. "I'm not at liberty to say."

Weren't they going to Ohio? Assuming it was Ohio, why not just say so?

Ian stood there thinking. He had no idea where he was. He had no money and no phone. If he ran he wouldn't get far, plus his head was still fuzzy and unfocused. He looked at the plane and back at the pilot and driver. They looked ready to tackle him if necessary. He walked to the plane.

Inside was quite luxurious. There were eight comfortable seats, a flat screen television and a table with a bottle of champagne on ice and a tray of fruit, cheese and crackers. Ian was starving, but he didn't touch the food.

He collapsed in a seat and leaned his head against the wall.

Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey.

"Hello!"

He was startled by the sudden appearance of a young, blonde woman. She was dressed in a blue and white striped dress and was wearing a white pillbox hat.

"I'm Vickie, your stewardess. Can I get you anything?"

Ian's stomach rumbled, but he shook his head.

Vickie motioned towards the tray. "Feel free to help yourself. We'll be taking off momentarily. We're just waiting for one more passenger."

Another passenger?

"Who are we waiting for? Where are we going?"

Vickie continued to smile brightly."I'm sorry. This is a confidential flight. Just sit back and relax and let me know if I can get you anything."

Ian slumped further in his chair. Maybe he could storm the cockpit and bring the plane down...

"Is he on board?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Let's take off as soon as possible."

"Immediately sir."

Ian tensed. He'd expected his mother, but that was a man's voice.

It sounded familiar.

"Hello sir."

"Hello Vickie. Nice to be flying with you again."

No.

It couldn't be.

"Hello gorgeous."

Ian looked up into the green eyes of Kash.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Ian was sure his mind was playing tricks on him. A side effect of the pain from the collar removal, or maybe he was having a bad dream.

Kash smiled down at him. "Wow. You still look just as pretty as you did in high school." He leaned down and gave Ian a quick kiss on the cheek. Ian shrank back and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. No, this wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare.

Kash sat down in the seat across from him and grinned. Ian felt a ball of panic form in his stomach while a trickle of fear slithered up his spine.

"What are you doing here? Where's my mother?"

"This is my father's plane, and I have absolutely no idea."

"Why are you here?"

Kash licked his lips and looked into Ian's eyes.

"Let's just say that your mother is very busy and asked me to look after you for awhile."

Ian shook his head. "No, I'm not staying with you. When we get to Westerville drop me off at my mother's house."

"We're not going to Westerville."

"Where are we going?"

"Just sit back and enjoy the flight."

"Tell me where we're going!"

Kash actually jumped a little at the level and tone of Ian's voice. Ian Gallagher yelling? What the fuck? Ian's hands were clenched into tight fists. His eyes were dark, full of fear and...something else. Something was different. Something Kash didn't recognize and couldn't identify.

Kash's voice was strong and dominant. "Don't worry about it. Just sit back and relax."

Ian felt the weight of Kash's voice fall on him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath...and shook it off.

"Tell me where we're going?"

"We're going to Europe."

"Europe?"

"Yes."

"Where in Europe? Why? Is my mother there?"

"Stop asking me questions."

"Tell me why we're going to Europe? And why are you here? What's going on?"

Kash leaned over and filled two glasses with champagne. He held one out to Ian. Ian shook his head.

"Oh, come on. Take it."

"No. I don't want any. I wanna know why we're going to Europe, and why you're here."

Kash set Ian's glass down. He picked up his and held it up.

"A toast to finally setting things right. Everything and everyone in their proper place." Kash drained the glass and poured some more. Ian's ball of panic turned into a swirling mass of dread.

"What's going on, Kash?"

Kash smiled a dazzling smile and gave Ian a knowing look. "I told you your mother would never allow you to be claimed by a grease monkey's offspring."

The swirling mass of dread exploded into streaks of panic and fear shooting throughout Ian's body. He slowly shook his head.

"No...I don't believe you. You're lying."

Kash laughed. "How am I lying? We're here aren't we?"

Ian shook his head. No. No way. His mother wouldn't do this to him. Would she? Kash gave him a smile anyone else would have found sexy. Ian found it repulsive.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I always told you I would take care of you, and I intend to keep my word."

Ian shuddered as Kash stared into his eyes, the dominance burning into his submission. He turned his head and closed his eyes.

This could not be happening.

His mother had taken him away from Mickey to give him to Kash? Why? Why would she do this? Why now after almost seven years?

Kash watched Ian closely trying to figure out what was going on. It had been seven years since he'd seen Ian, so he knew he would have changed some, but this...this was completely unexpected. He could sense Ian's submission, but it was faint. Barely present. It wasn't overwhelming like in high school. Back then Ian's submission dripped off him like sweat. It was intoxicating. Kash always loved how Ian would immediately melt into a puddle of submissive fear whenever he entered the room, but this Ian was different. His submission was weak, his presence strong, and he was mouthy. How did Milkovich manage to fuck up the world's most perfect slave?

Kash's eyes roamed up and down Ian's body before resting on his collarless neck. As if on cue, a piercing pain struck Ian's submissive core. He dug his nails into the leather seat as he struggled to breathe through the pain. Kash frowned and switched to the seat next to Ian. Ian's body shook and he let out a small cry as the pain intensified. Suddenly he felt a warm sensation roll through him and the pain began to subside. He opened his eyes and saw Kash's hand resting on his arm. He snatched his arm away.

"Get the fuck off me!"

Kash was shocked. "Relax! I'm trying to help you! When was your collar removed?"

"None of your business!"

Okay. He definitely didn't like this Ian. What the hell had Milkovich done?

"If it was recently you're going to experience pain."

Ian glared at him. "As if you care."

"I do care. I don't want you uncomfortable."

Ian scoffed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I thought you would be past this phase by now, but I bought these just in case." Kash dug into his pocket and pulled out a small pill bottle. "Vickie, bring me a bottle of water."

Kash took out four small pills. "Here. They'll ease the pain."

They were like the ones the driver had given him. Ian shook his head.

"Come on, Ian. We have a long flight."

Ian shook his head just as a strong wave of pain radiated from his submissive core and exploded. He yelled and fell forward. Kash grabbed him and dragged him over to a small bed. He pushed him down and grabbed the bottle of water.

"Take these, now."

"No."

"Ian...they'll make you feel better." Ian's body shook harder as the pain grew worse. Kash's voice softened.

"I don't want you in pain."

"Then take me home! Take me back to Mickey!"

"You know what, Ian? Let's just get this out of the way. You're not going home, and you are definitely not going back to gayface Milkovich. But don't worry. I don't intend to claim you anytime soon. There's no hurry, but eventually you will submit to me. You might as well accept that. Now, as your future master, I don't want you in pain. Take the damn pills!"

Ian wanted to take them. Bad. His body was wracked with pain as his submission swirled and burned, trying to process the loss of the collar and bracelets. Where was Master Mickey? And who was this new master with the strong, striking presence? It was hard for him to stay focused and everything hurt, but he didn't want to follow any command given by Kash.

" _You do not have to submit to or respect any other master."_

He would suffer until he couldn't.

"No."

"Come on, Ian. I can see how much pain you're in!"

"No!"

"Fine! At least now I know you're a pain slut. I'll remember that."

Kash returned to his seat, strapped in and watched Ian grimace and shake. As he watched him, he couldn't help but think about Tristan. Tristan had probably gone through this phase on the plane to New York. Hopefully someone helped him. Maybe he should have given Tristan some pills.

Ian's head was spinning and pounding. Somewhere in-between the pain it hit him that Mickey would have no idea that he'd left the country. The thought seemed to intensify his suffering and his body started to grow warm. Too warm. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists tighter. Damn he wanted those pills, but he would not give Kash the satisfaction of his obedience. Never. He'd rather suffer.

As the plane began to coast at flying altitude, Ian developed a fever and started falling in and out of consciousness. He started talking incoherently. Kash knelt down by the bed.

"Ian? Ian, go to sleep. Just sleep. You're almost through the bad part. Just sleep." He had Vickie fix a cold washcloth which he gently pressed to Ian's forehead. "Just sleep, Ian. Everything will be fine. I know you don't believe me, but...I will take care of you. I promise."

Ian started to ramble. "Mickey...I love you, Mickey. Everything will be fine. No jail, Mickey. Won't let you go to jail. Love you too much..."

Kash tensed at Ian's words, but forced himself to relax and remember that this was going to take time. Patience was key.

Ian continued rambling, his eyes closed, his face glistening with sweat. He called out to Mickey, professing his love, asking to serve him, and begging to be fucked. Listening to Ian beg, even in a semi-conscious state for another man made Kash's dick hard. He couldn't wait to hear Ian beg for him.

After a few hours Ian's fever broke. He woke up feeling sick, and dizzy, and needing to go to the bathroom. Kash helped him stand and held him up while he went. Ian's head was too fuzzy to protest. He laid back down and finally fell into a restful sleep. Kash fell asleep staring at him.

Several hours later Vickie woke Kash.

"Sir, we're about to land."

Kash nodded. He stood up and stretched. Ian was still asleep. Kash needed him to stay asleep for just a little while longer. He dug around in his bag and took out a small bottle of liquid and a syringe. He filled the syringe, pushed up Ian's sleeve and stuck the needle in Ian's arm, injecting him.

Once the plane landed Kash walked down the steps where two large men were waiting.

"He's asleep on the bed. He won't wake up, but you still need to lift him carefully. I don't want him hurt in anyway."

"Yes sir."

"He's kind of small so it won't take both of you. Go ahead and start the helicopter."

"Yes sir."

The helicopter pilot readied for take off while the other man climbed aboard the plane and carefully carried Ian out. Once Kash was settled in the helicopter, the man handed Ian over to him. Kash held him on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around him. As they took off, he buried his nose in Ian's hair and inhaled. Ian's scent settled in his brain and made him slightly dizzy with desire. Kash had spent many a night, drinking and screwing slaves with curly, black hair and olive skin, trying to reach the addictive high that came from Ian's scent. Finally, he had the real thing.

It wasn't long before they landed. John sighed as he watched the pilot take Ian from Kash so he could climb out. He wondered where poor Tristan was.

Kash gathered Ian in his arms and held him close and tight as he walked towards John, a huge smile on his face.

"Hello!"

"Hello sir. How was your trip?"

"Long but worth it. I'm glad we're finally here. Is everything ready?"

"Of course. Shall I stay or do you want to be alone?"

"No, no, of course I need you to stay. We'll need to eat. Is the house stocked?"

"Fully sir."

"Great."

Kash carried Ian up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He carefully laid him on the bed and stood over him for a moment trying to decide if he should undress him or not. He decided against it. His plan was to move slowly and allow nature to take its course. He removed Ian's shoes and socks and laid a light blanket over him. He turned to leave before stopping and turning back around. Maybe he should do one more thing.

It couldn't hurt to give nature a little push.

* * *

Ian opened his eyes.

The pain was gone.

His mind felt clear.

Where was he?

He quickly sat up and looked around. He was sitting in a bed in a large bedroom with deep, dark gold walls and maroon window curtains. A large flat screen was on the wall across from the bed and a large dresser with a mirror was against the other. There was a mahogany desk in the corner with a leather chair. He could see inside a large walk-in closet and assumed the other door was to a master bathroom. A bathroom. Good. He needed to pee. He went to swing his legs to the floor...and couldn't.

He pulled up the blanket.

He was chained to the bed.

There was just enough slack for him to move while he slept, but he couldn't leave the bed. The chains were the same kind Mickey used during punishment. Heavy, medieval iron chains. As he stared at the chains, he felt a flutter deep, deep down in his belly. He squashed it. Only then did he look over and notice Kash. Kash was lying next to him, but was all the way on the other side of the bed leaving plenty of space between them.

Ian laid back down and tried to think. When did they get here and where was here? Assuming he could get to a phone, would he be able to call Mickey? How did international calling work? He noticed a laptop sitting on the desk. Email. If he sent Mickey an email, Mickey could get someone to trace it and maybe figure out where he was. When did they land? Why couldn't he remember arriving? How long had he been asleep? He looked over at Kash. He really needed to pee. He reached over and punched Kash in the back.

"Ow!" Kash's eyes flew open and he rolled over to glare at Ian. Wait? Did slave Ian just punch him?

"What the hell!"

"I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Gentle shaking would have sufficed." Since when did Ian punch? Kash eyed him warily. What the hell did Milkovich do to him?

Kash stood up and walked around to the foot of the bed. He took a chain with a key from around his neck and unlocked the padlocks. He stared at Ian as he removed the chains. Ian stared at the wall. When he heard the chains fall to the floor, he quickly scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He tried to lock it but there was no lock. He relieved himself and splashed cold water on his face. He looked for a towel and froze.

 _Kash_

 _Ian_

Matching monogrammed towels.

A set for Kash and a set for him.

He took a closer look at the counter. There was a brand new toothbrush and bottles of all the hair and skin products he always used. Mickey had carefully selected each product based on Ian's hair and skin type. How did Kash know what to buy?

He took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom. Kash had opened the curtains allowing bright sunlight to flood the room. He was sitting at the desk, typing on his laptop. Ian spotted a cell phone next to him. Okay. He would definitely figure out a way to steal that. He shifted his gaze to the window and a new ball of panic began to form. He slowly walked to the window and stared out at...the ocean. Beautiful, perfectly blue water, sparkling under the sun.

Where the hell were they?

Kash was watching him. He stood up and walked over to a set of French doors. He opened them and stepped out onto a balcony. He leaned against the railing and looked out, waiting. Ian followed him outside, looked over the railing...and his heart sank.

"It's called K Isle. My great-great-great grandfather bought it. It sat here for years until my great-grandmother decided to build the house so they could vacation here, but my mother is the one who made it amazing. She remodeled the entire house, modernized it and created paradise. Of course, my parents never come here which is a shame. It really is beautiful."

Ian looked out over the water. A beautiful prison.

"Is it really an island?"

Kash didn't look at him, but he know what Ian was thinking.

"Yes. You fly in and fly out."

"How far is shore?"

Kash turned and smiled. "Too far to swim, gorgeous. Come on. Let's get dressed, have breakfast and I'll show you around."

Kash walked back inside while Ian just stood there.

He was trapped on an island in Europe. How the hell would Mickey ever find him?

He waited until enough minutes had passed to make it seem like he was coming on his own and not because Kash told him to. Kash was standing in the walk-in closet wearing nothing but a pair of tight, navy blue briefs. Ian noticed that he had grown since high school. He was taller and more muscular; strong and firm. His body had completely filled out making him tower over Ian even more. His master dominance was stronger too. Ian swallowed and steeled his mind.

Kash gestured towards one side of the closet. "That's all yours." Ian's eyes widened as he looked at the rows of shirts, pants, jeans, and shoes. There were jackets, coats and a suit. An open drawer was full of socks and boxers.

First the towels and toiletries, now a closet full of clothes.

This was crazy.

And scary.

Kash wasn't messing around.

He fully intended to keep him. And claim him.

Ian made up his mind. He was leaving. He had to escape while he was still strong and able to fight Kash's dominance. He had to try and run before he couldn't. How long before his true self returned? Without Mickey to balance and strengthen him, it was only a matter of time before his inherent submission took over. He had to run before it was too late.

"Look, I don't care what you and my mother are up to, I'm not staying here. I'm not being claimed by you. I have a master. I am the fully owned property of Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich. He is my master. I live to serve him and him alone."

Kash smiled wickedly. "Actually, that's no longer true. You don't have a master, Ian. You don't have a collar."

Ian ignored the tiny pinch in his submissive core. "Doesn't matter. I still belong to Mickey. I will always belong to Mickey."

Kash took one, long step forward putting him face to face with Ian. He stared into his eyes. "We both know that's not true. Even as we stand here your submission is shifting, seeking and trying to adjust to the fact that your collar is gone. The physical pain is just the first stage. We both know what's coming. Before it's all over, you will be begging me to claim you."

Ian stepped back. "I'll never submit to you. Never."

"Yes, you will. You can't fight nature, Ian."

Ian's chest tightened. Maybe, but he was sure as hell going to try.

Ian stared at the closet and tried to figure out what to wear. He hadn't chosen his own clothes in seven years. Mickey always dressed him. He reluctantly chose a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Kash was lounging against the door frame, watching him. Ian didn't want to change in front of of him, but it was obvious Kash wasn't about to move. Ian turned his back on him and began to undress. Kash watched his every move and drooled just a little at the sight of Ian's muscular back, firm ass and strong legs. Waiting for Ian to break was going to be hard, but enjoyable to watch.

Once they were dressed Kash began the tour. There were several bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs, and downstairs was a large family room, dining room, another bedroom and kitchen. Ian scanned every room for a land line phone, but never saw one. He also noticed there were no clocks or calendars.

Breakfast was waiting on the deck. The table looked like something straight out of Home and Gardens magazine. It was beautifully set with a flower arrangement as the centerpiece. Ian sat down and stared at the food. There were waffles, biscuits, bacon, sausage, fruit and orange juice. His heart felt heavy as he thought of Mickey. Mickey always told him what to eat for breakfast. Always. It was one of his rules. On Saturdays and Sundays he could have Apple Jacks, but Mickey decided Monday through Friday.

Kash was watching him. "Do you want something different? I'll have John make anything you want."

"Who's John?"

John magically appeared by the table.

"This is John. John is my...I don't know. Chef, chauffeur, and everything in-between." John nodded formally to Ian. "Just tell him what you want and he'll make it."

"Uh, no, this is fine. Unless..."

"What?"

"Do you have Apple Jacks?"

"Apple Jacks?"

"Yeah, the cereal."

Kash looked at John who looked amused.

"No. I'm afraid we do not have...Apple Jacks. I will be sure to order some."

Kash looked furious. "I'll make sure you have some by tomorrow." He gave John a stern look. John disappeared.

Ian felt a little panicked. He didn't want to get John in trouble. It was a long shot, but he was hoping to get him to help him escape.

"No, that's not necessary. This is all fine." He quickly took a waffle and a few pieces of sausage.

"It's no problem. I want you to have what you like."

"I'd like to go home."

Kash shook his head.

"Then...can I at least call Mickey? I want him to know I'm okay."

"Mickey's not your master anymore, Ian. He removed your collar."

"No he didn't! Those assholes from the Ministry removed it!"

Kash sat back and groaned in his head.

Great. Just fucking great.

That explained why Ian's pain was gone so soon, but it also meant things might take longer than he'd planned. If Mickey didn't remove the collar, Mickey still had a strong mental hold on Ian. Kash watched he eat. Ian was so damn pretty. Everything about him was beyond attractive. The thick, curly black hair, the long eyelashes, the honey-amber eyes, pink lips and olive skin. It was all beauty perfected. And then just when you thought it couldn't get any better, there was the submission. A submission so strong, complete and thorough that you could smell it rolling off of Ian's body. At least you used to. Milkovich's ass had done something to ruin it, but that kind of submission was inborn. It would return. Deeper and stronger than before. Kash could wait. It would be worth it.

They finished breakfast in silence. Ian was starving and without Mickey to tell him he'd had enough, he ate and ate until he was stuffed. Kash was pleased to see him eat so well.

They went outside to walk around the grounds. Kash pointed out the swimming pool, the tennis courts, and the bike/walking path. The place was like a private resort. As they stood at the top of a hill, overlooking the water, Ian couldn't help but think of what it must have cost to ship everything to an island.

"I don't get it. Why spend all this money for a place you never visit?"

Kash shrugged. "It was my mother's project. Something for her to do while my father was busy."

"But how did they get it all here?"

"Some things were flown in. Others were brought in by boat."

"Is there like a weekly boat or something?"

Kash smiled slowly. Ian was adorable.

"No. There's no weekly boat for you to stow away on, Ian."

Ian said nothing. Damn. Was he really that obvious?

When they returned to the house, Kash stripped down to his briefs and jumped into the pool. Ian sat down in a chaise lounge chair, closed his eyes and tried to think.

How could he escape?

Kash had to be lying. There had to be a weekly or daily boat or plane that brought things in. How was John going to have Apple Jacks for him in the morning? Maybe they really weren't the only ones on the island. For all he knew this house was really rented. Kash was an evil douchebag. He could be lying about everything.

How could his mother do this to him?

And where the hell was Lip? Ian had tried calling him several times, but was always told he was out of the country and couldn't be reached. How was that possible in today's high tech world?

Ian shifted from thoughts of escape and betrayal to thoughts of Mickey. What time was it in New York? Was Mickey awake? Did he miss his morning blowjob? Ian had definitely missed sucking him. Mickey was all alone in New York with no one to serve him. Tears rolled down Ian's cheeks as he stared up at the sky. Maybe Mickey was looking at the same sky. Okay, that was impossible, but it was still a comforting thought.

Kash swam for a while before sitting in the chaise lounge chair next to Ian. He glanced over and saw the tears.

Shit.

That fucking Mickey. He was supposed to be the one to remove Ian's collar, not the Ministry. If Mickey had removed it, Ian would still be in pain, but his mind wouldn't be so stuck on Mickey to the point that he was crying. Stupid Milkovich. From day one he'd fucked up everything. If it wasn't for him, Ian would have been his years ago.

After lunch Kash had to check in on work. "You can watch movies, or take a nap, or do whatever you want."

"Can I leave?"

"No."

Ian took this opportunity to go snooping. He wandered throughout the house searching for a phone, cell phone or laptop. Nothing. He rummaged through desk drawers and bookshelves, but found nothing that would help him escape or even tell him where he was. In the family room he spied a large, framed drawing leaning against the wall. It was a picture of Kash with a man with long black hair. They were both wearing only briefs and had their arms wrapped around each other. They looked very hot and sexy. Ian studied the long haired man. He looked beautiful.

"That's Tristan."

Ian spun around to find John standing in the doorway watching him.

"Who is he?"

"Kash's slave. Before you."

"I'm not his slave!"

John smiled. "Not yet." He turned and walked out.

So much for John helping him.

Ian returned to the bedroom. Kash was still sitting at his desk, typing away. He didn't look up.

"Done snooping?"

"Who's Tristan?"

The color drained from Kash's face. He stared at the computer screen. "He's nobody."

"John said he was your slave."

What the hell? John was really on a fuck up roll today. First no Apple Jacks, now this.

"He wasn't my slave."

Ian tried to remember. Did the guy have a collar on in the picture? "Then why would he say that?"

"He was mistaken."

Ian kept thinking. Hadn't Wes said he'd heard Kash had moved to Paris and claimed someone?

"Where is he now?"

Kash shrugged. "I don't know."

"So you raped him and then dumped him?"

Kash looked up angrily. "No! I didn't rape him! I've never raped anybody!"

"Says your father's money."

Kash stared at Ian hard. Where was the Ian that was scared of his own shadow and every master alive? This Ian was annoying and...

Strong.

Kash cocked his head to the side and stared at Ian's body. Ian had his back to him as he studied the DVD collection. Kash looked at how he was standing. Back straight, feet slightly apart, shoulders back.

"Ian."

Ian turned around and stared at him. Kash looked him up and down and then stared into his eyes.

Strength.

This Ian was strong and...defiant.

That was it. That was the thing Kash couldn't identify in Ian's eyes. Strength and defiance. Somehow Mickey had given Ian strength and defiance.

"Ian, come here."

Ian didn't move. "Why? What do you want?"

Kash nodded. Yep. That was it. Strength to question and refuse a master. Why would he do that? Milkovich really was the stupidest asshole on the face of the earth. He definitely did not deserve Ian.

Ian felt a chill drift over him as Kash slowly smiled, his eyes shining with sudden knowledge and excitement.

Assuming Mickey had been experimenting on Ian's mind since he claimed him, when Ian finally returned to his true nature, he was going to crash.

Hard.

Really hard.

Break into a million pieces hard.

And Kash would be there to scramble all the pieces and recreate the beautiful, super submissive slave, Ian Victor Gallagher.

And claim him.

* * *

By the end of the first week, a loose routine had emerged. It wasn't the type of strict routine a master should set for a slave, but it was something for Ian to cling to. They would wake, dress and have breakfast. Ian forced himself not to eat Apple Jacks everyday. He knew Mickey wouldn't approve. After breakfast Kash would work while Ian wondered around aimlessly. By Friday he had managed to search the entire house, but still found nothing that would help him escape or learn where he was. He was sure Kash was lying about there being a daily or weekly plane or boat, but he never saw or heard anything. He was also suspicious of John. He always appeared at mealtimes, but was unseen the rest of the day. Where did he go?

After lunch they would spend the afternoon swimming or watching movies. Ian tried to write songs in a blank notebook he'd found, but for the first time in years, words refused to come to him. Instead he found himself writing Mickey's name over and over.

And then he would cry.

He wanted to go home. He missed Mickey so much it hurt. He missed serving him. His mouth missed the feel of Mickey's cock, heavy on his tongue. He missed the taste of his cum sliding down his throat. He missed the feel of Mickey's cock sliding in and out of his ass, and damn did he miss having someone rub his purr spot.

All the missing scared him.

For anyone else it would be normal, but for a slave, missing was just the beginning. When would the rest hit?

He was also very confused by, and scared of Kash.

Kash hadn't tried to touch him once. Not one time. Ian remembered his predatory behavior in high school. Now that he finally had Ian captive where no one would stop him, why hadn't he attacked? Instead Kash was always asking him what he wanted to eat and what he wanted to do. Ian's answer was always the same. I want to go home. Kash would just shake his head.

The only time he touched Ian was at night. He chained him to the bed every single night. Ian was always careful to look at the wall while Kash chained him. He didn't want to trigger his submission. He knew it was a matter of time before the hungry, desperate need to be dominated kicked in. How long would he be able to fight his natural urges and instincts? At night he fell asleep repeating Mickey's words in his head and whispering to himself.

 _"You are my beautiful slave. Mine. Your submission is to me and me alone. I command you to refuse all others. You do not have to submit to or respect any other master...Never submit to another, Ian. Never."_

"I won't Mickey. I promise to try as hard as I can, but please...please find me. Please Mickey. Hurry. Please."

* * *

Frank stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned against the wall. He took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face. He pulled out a small bottle and popped two pills into his mouth, swallowing with no water. He let his head fall back against the wall, closed his eyes and tried to relax. He couldn't let Carol see how tired he was and he definitely didn't want her to know how tight his chest had been the past week. She would insist they return to Ohio and he didn't want to do that. He couldn't do that. Not while his son lay in bed dying a slow emotional death.

Once he felt pulled together, he entered the apartment and walked into the kitchen. Carol took one look at him and frowned.

"We're going home tonight."

Frank ignored her. "How is he?"

"No change, and don't ignore me. You're not well. You need to rest. We're going home."

"I'm not leaving him."

Carol walked over and took his hands in hers. Her eyes were submissive and slightly pleading, but Frank knew better. He may be the master, but Carol knew how to give the commands.

"Mickey is suffering and he's not going to get better anytime soon. He's experiencing the worst kind of pain, probably second to losing his mother. It's going to take him a long, long time to recover. It would be awful if in the middle of that recovery he had to deal with his father being hospitalized or worse, planning his father's funeral. You must take care of yourself in order to take care of Mickey and to help him get Ian back. It won't do him any good to lose his father and then have to console his father's heartbroken slave and step-brother. We are going home tonight. I've already booked our flight. The taxi will be here in an hour."

"Carol…"

"It's been a week, Frank. You can't keep commuting from New York to D.C., and running around to meetings, and screaming at people on the phone. Your heart can't take it. We're going home. Rachel and Finn are coming over and Rachel has agreed to have Finn stay with him every day while she's at rehearsal. Chandler and Seth will come over in the evenings. Quinn will handle the office all next week. We're going home and you are going to sit and do absolutely nothing while I take care of you."

Frank sighed. He knew she was right, but the idea of leaving Mickey in his current state did not sit well with him. His son was in pain and he needed to be there for him. Carol read his mind.

"I know you want to be here for him. That's what I'm doing. Making sure you will be here for him. For a long, long time."

Frank squeezed her hand and nodded. "Okay."

Frank walked to Mickey's room and pushed open the door. Mickey was on the bed in the same position he'd been in for an entire week. On his side, legs curled up, clutching a small yellow dog he'd given Ian in high school. Margaret Thatcher Dog. Ian had planned to take it with him, but then decided to leave if for Mickey. He told him the dog would keep him company. Mickey had been squeezing it against his chest since Ian left.

Everyone had worried about Mickey preparing Ian.

But there was no one to prepare Mickey.

After the van pulled away, it took Frank and Wes 15 minutes to get Mickey off the ground. He was molded to the cement, sobbing and screaming Ian's name. Once they pulled him to his feet, it took another 15 minutes to get him up the stairs, into the building and then up the stairs to the apartment. Once inside, they laid him on his bed where he curled up and cried.

Mickey had been in bed ever since.

He refused to eat or drink until the fourth day when Carol threatened to drag him to a hospital if he didn't at least drink some water and take a few bites of soup. He hadn't had anything else.

Frank carefully sat down on the edge of the bed and laid his hand on Mickey's shoulder.

"We're leaving tonight. Carol's insisting. I'm sorry." Mickey remained motionless and silent. "I promise...we'll figure out something. We'll..."

Mickey interrupted, his voice a hoarse whisper from not speaking in days. "Don't...please...just don't."

"Don't leave? You want me to stay? I'll stay, Mickey. I'll stay for as long..."

"No. Promises. Don't promise. No more promises."

The words felt like a knife slowly sinking into Frank's already damaged heart.

"Mickey..."

"I promised him. I promised him I'd take care of him. Protect him. I said I'd protect him with my life, and I didn't. I failed him. No more promises. I don't deserve promises when I can't keep the ones I make."

"No...Mickey...don't...please. It's not your fault. This is not your fault. You were up against forces bigger and more powerful than you. Don't blame yourself. This is not your fault."

Mickey rolled over and looked at his father. Frank was disturbed by the sight of his fashion conscious, always perfectly coiffed son. Mickey's skin was dry, blotchy and streaked with dried tear stains. His hair was limp, messy and matted to his head. His eyes were red, swollen and full of despair and sadness. He looked like hell.

Mickey studied Frank, his heart growing heavy with guilt. His father looked awful. Pale, tired, dark circles under his eyes. Aged. His father had aged years in just seven days. Of course, so had he. Instead of 24, Mickey felt 110.

"Carol's right. You need to go home. Go home, dad. Go home."

Frank reached down and pulled him up into a hug. Mickey allowed himself to be held, but he didn't hug back. He felt too old and tired. Lifting his arms would require energy he just didn't have. So instead he allowed Frank to hold him and whisper that he loved him and not to worry because they would find a way to get Ian back.

Once Frank pulled away, Mickey returned to his curled up position on the bed with the little yellow dog tucked safely in his arms. Frank stood up and said something Mickey didn't bother to listen to. Whatever his father was saying didn't matter.

Ian was gone.

Nothing mattered. Not anymore.

He opened his eyes briefly when he heard the door buzzer. He didn't care who it was. He closed his eyes and then opened them again.

The trunk.

Ian's trunk! He hadn't shipped Ian's trunk! It was sitting against the wall under the window. How many days had it been? Ian didn't have his things! Mickey flew into a panic.

"Dad! Dad!" It hurt to yell, but he needed them to send the trunk. He climbed out of bed and immediately fell down, his legs weak from no use. Frank, Carol, Rachel and Finn burst into the room.

"Mickey!" Frank and Finn rushed over to help him stand. Mickey's eyes were wide and he was trying to talk, but his voice was hoarse and his throat hurt.

"The trunk...Ian's trunk. He...he doesn't have his...his things. He needs..."

"Shh, Mickey calm down. We'll take care of it. Carol and I will take it with us on the plane. I'll take it to Westerville tomorrow, okay? I won't call first. I'll just show up. That way I can check on him, all right?"

Mickey nodded and sat down heavily on the bed. Finn frowned at him.

"Wow. You smell. I didn't think you could smell. Well, smell bad that is. You always smell good. Like fruit. Actually better than fruit. But fruity. Yeah."

Rachel gave him a horrified look. "Finn! Honestly!"

"I am being honest! Dude I love you, but I don't wanna hang out here all day if you're gonna smell like that."

For the first time in a long time, Frank and Carol laughed. Rachel smiled, but Mickey just stared at the floor. Rachel sat down and took Mickey's hand.

"I'm not going to pretend to understand the pain you're in, but you always feel better when you look your best. Why don't you at least take a shower and try to eat something? You haven't eaten in days."

Mickey snatched his hand away. "For once in your selfish life, Rachel you are absolutely correct. You have no fucking idea what I feel like, but I can assure you that a shower will not make me feel better!"

Rachel was undaunted. She knew the anger wasn't really for her.

"Nevertheless, you smell like shit, and I know Ian would be more heartbroken than he already is if he knew his beautiful, well-manicured, shower obsessed master was sitting here allowing himself to stink." Rachel stood up. "Now, you do whatever you want. Finn and I will be in the living room. Chandler and Seth are coming over later. You don't have to come out. Just know that we're here. We're here and we love you."

Frank and Carol gave Mickey one last hug before leaving, promising to deliver the trunk and to report on Ian. Rachel closed the door behind her.

Mickey stared at the floor.

Was Ian okay?

Was Monica taking care of him?

Did she establish a routine for him? Ian needed routine, even more than most slaves. Did Monica know that? Did she care?

His eyes drifted to Ian's cage and he felt his dominance rise and crash around in his chest. _Where's your slave, Mickey? Is he locked in someone else's cage?_

Mickey screamed in both anger and despair. He'd spent the past seven days crying. Now he was angry. He started throwing things across the room. First the pillows on the bed, then the lamp on the nightstand. Then everything. If he could reach it and lift it, he threw it. Books, scripts, bottles, pictures. Everything went flying across the room and slamming into the walls. Rachel and Finn ran in to see what was going on, but Rachel stopped Finn from stopping Mickey. They just stood in the doorway and watched him yell and scream and throw things until he was exhausted.

He sat down on the floor and put his face in his hands. Rachel and Finn sat down on either side of him. Rachel rubbed his back but didn't say anything. After several minutes, Mickey looked around the room at the mess he'd made. He looked at Rachel.

"I'm going to get him back. I have to. He belongs to me."

Rachel nodded. "Yes. I know, and you will."

* * *

Tristan sat on the brick wall across from Fresia and watched people filing in. Even from his location across the street it was easy to spot the slaves versus the masters. The slaves were dressed to impress in impossibly short shorts, sleeveless tops, and low cut shirts designed to show off their ink stained wrists and collarless necks. The masters were dressed a bit more conservatively in khaki pants and button down shirts. They didn't need to look impressive. Their master status made them attractive.

Tristan wrinkled his nose. Even from where he was sitting he could smell the desperation. He looked down at his phone and stared at the wallpaper, a photo of him and Kash. He heard Kash's voice in his head.

… _don't go to the free clubs, okay? Just...if you need money, call me, but...don't go to the clubs._

"You don't get to tell me what to do! You threw me away, remember?"

He looked around nervously as he realized he'd just yelled that out loud. People were going to think he was nuts.

He put the phone away and continued to stare at the club. This was the third one he'd been to since arriving in New York. The first one turned out to be a straight club. The second one was for gays, but he'd left within 15 minutes of arriving. The masters had looked terrifying. Huge, hulking men covered in tattoos. Fresia was supposedly upscale and sophisticated. Wealthy masters and high class slaves. Tristan considered himself a high class slave. After all, he used to belong to a very wealthy, high class master who gave him a high class life. He and Kash had so much fun together. Romantic trips, shopping sprees, delicious meals in the best restaurants, champagne and chocolate covered strawberries in the hot tub. And the sex. Damn the sex. Kash's appetite for hard, kinky, punishing sex had been insatiable. Tristan loved the way Kash would use his long hair as a chain, wrapping it around his hand to jerk Tristan's head back while pounding into…

"Hey baby, you scared to go in by yourself?"

He was medium height with curly hair and gentle green eyes. His expression was one of amused concern. Tristan could feel he was a master. He looked down.

"Um, no, well...maybe. I'm just sitting here."

"I'd be happy to go in with you. Or…we don't have to go in at all."

Tristan's heart jumped as his submission burned. This guy was cute and he didn't seem scary, but the idea of being with another master terrified him. Kash was the only man he'd ever been with. The idea of another man touching him, feeling him, fucking him. It was unthinkable, but he was growing desperate. It had been several months and things weren't getting easier.

The plane ride from France to New York had been sheer hell. At one point the pain became so unbearable that he couldn't control himself. He screamed, scaring the other passengers and causing the pilot to threaten an emergency landing to have him arrested. A kind stewardess took mercy on him and sneaked him a painkilling sedative.

Once in New York, he sat in the apartment alone, in pain and haunted by dreams of Kash. His body tortured itself, seeking a connection it knew was once there. After several weeks the pain subsided and was replaced by the constant craving to be dominated. It was a hungry ache that grew more ravenous over time. He needed to be dominated. Dominated and fucked until he passed out. His submission was starving, but so was his heart. He wanted to be claimed again. He wasn't sure he could really sleep with a master and then walk away with no claim.

He glanced across the street at the slaves entering the club. How did they do it?

"Hey, sweetheart, what do you wanna do?"

Tristan looked at the master. He seemed harmless, and his eyes looked kind, but his dominance wasn't powerfully strong.

Like Kash's.

"Um...I..."

Tristan slid off the wall and backed away. His voice was a whisper. "I'm sorry...I can't...I just can't..."

He turned and ran.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Carol admired the beautiful flowers as they drove up the long winding driveway towards the Gallagher home.

"How on earth does she get her petunias to grow so large? They are absolutely gorgeous."

"I guarantee you Monica Gallagher has nothing to do with those flowers. I'm sure they have a gardener."

As the house came into view, both Frank and Carol's eyes grew wide.

"Wow. Just...wow. What on earth do you do with a house this big?"

"Apparently you lock your son inside it."

Carol shook her head. "Poor Ian. He could get lost in a house this big."

"Come on. Let's hope they let us see him."

Frank and Carol stepped out of the car. Frank went to get the trunk, but Carol stopped him. "Leave it. I'm sure they have staff who can lift it out." They approached the huge doors and rang the bell. A small woman dressed in a black and white maid uniform answered.

"Hello. May I help you?"

Frank rarely pulled the, I'm a Congressman card, but this seemed like a good time to do so.

"Hello. I'm Congressman Milkovich. We're here to see Ian."

The woman looked confused. "Ian?"

"Yes. Ian Gallagher."

The woman shook her head but stepped aside so they could enter. "Wait here please." She disappeared down the hall.

Frank and Carol gave each other a worried look. A tall man wearing a gray suit came towards them.

"Good afternoon. I'm Marvin, the Gallagher's house manager. How can I help you?"

"I'm Congressman Milkovich and this is Carol. We're here to see Ian."

"Ian?"

Frank decided to proceed cautiously. "Yes, Ian. Last time I spoke to Monica she said he was home."

Marvin shook his head in confusion. "I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. Ian hasn't lived here for years. He lives somewhere in New York with his master and they never visit. I might have the master's name and address somewhere. I'd be happy to check."

Frank and Carol glanced at each other and back at Marvin. He appeared to be genuinely confused. He also sounded like he was telling the truth.

"So, Ian hasn't been here?"

"No. Like I said, he lives with his master in New York. He's been there since graduating high school. Would you like me to see if I can find an address? I'm not sure of his master's name. Something with a C or K, I think."

Frank couldn't believe that Monica thought so little of both her son and his that her staff didn't even know Mickey's name.

"Is Monica home?"

"No. She's in California on business. If you give me your card, I'll be happy to let her know you stopped by and I'll ask her to call you regarding Ian."

Frank thought quickly. If he left his card, Monica would know that he knew Ian wasn't there. Was that good or bad? There could be an innocent explanation. He could be with her, but if that was the case why didn't her staff know that?

"No. That's okay. I'll just give her a call. Thanks for your time."

"Of course. Have a good day."

Frank and Carol sat in the car in silence, staring at the house. Finally Carol spoke.

"I don't like this. If he's not here, then where is he? I can't see her dragging him around to business meetings."

"I don't like it either. She travels a lot but this is her home base. Despite all her money, she doesn't own homes or apartments in other cities. She prefers expensive hotels. If she was going to keep Ian this is where he would be."

Carol looked at him in alarm. "If? What do you mean, if she was going to keep him? You don't think she...gave him to someone...do you?"

Frank shook his head. "I don't know. Mickey worried about that, but...I just...I can't believe she'd do that. I don't wanna believe that. Not after all this time. She has to know that would destroy him. Then again she had no problem taking him. Who knows what she's capable of."

They sat in silence, both thinking the same thing. Finally Carol voiced it.

"What are we going to tell Mickey?"

* * *

Mickey stared at his naked reflection in the mirror.

He didn't recognize himself.

He'd lost weight. Too much weight. Too bad he didn't plan to do the show. He wouldn't have to worry about fitting into his costume. Of course, now the costume would hang off him.

After three more days of lying in despair, he'd decided to take Rachel's advice. She was right. Ian would hate what he was doing to himself. If Ian walked through the door he wouldn't recognize his master.

When.

When Ian walked through the door he needed to recognize his master. His Dom.

Mickey had to get his shit together.

He took a shower and styled his hair. He applied concealer to the dark circles and a little bronzer to improve his color. He walked to his closet and chose an outfit. He glanced at Ian's side. Did Monica lay his clothes out for him in the morning? Ian liked having his clothes chosen for him. A very small element of control, but one that fed him. Mickey had spent their first year together learning how to feed Ian's submission in both small and large ways. Keeping Ian's submission fed was important. It kept it in check. Balanced. Would Monica take care of him, or would she just allow his submission to slowly creep back to it's natural, deep, suffocating level, drowning Ian completely?

Mickey blinked back tears and got dressed. He definitely didn't feel better, but he did feel...clean. He quietly left his bedroom and heard Rachel, Finn, Chandler, Seth and Kevin all talking in the living room. He stayed out of sight so he could listen. Chandler was speaking.

"I think you should really push him to do this. He needs this right now. He can't sit here, day after day, grieving over Ian. It's not healthy."

"Look, I agree with you. I want him back. I need him back. Tony's good, but he's not Mickey, and many of the investors came on board, in part, on the strength of Mickey's name. Without him the entire show might close before it ever opens, but I don't think he's in any condition to carry a show. His heart's not in it. It's broken. You can't lay something on someone broken."

Rachel was about to burst. "I completely disagree. Art is about drawing on your deepest, most heart-wrenching, and heartfelt emotions, and pouring all those feelings into your character and your performance. This tragic, awful, horrible experience will allow Mickey to give a Tony award winning performance. He's probably in the best acting shape of his life."

As they argued amongst themselves, Mickey noticed Seth sitting quietly next to Chandler. He had his knees pulled up to his chin, his arms wrapped around his legs. His eyes looked sad. Mickey appreciated the sadness. He felt like Seth was the only one who shared his current emotional state.

Mickey entered the room causing everyone to fall silent. He sat down on the couch.

"Oh, don't mind me. Please continue discussing my future. As soon as you've reached agreement just let me know what I'm supposed to do."

Everyone looked slightly embarrassed. "Mickey, what do you want to do?" asked Rachel.

"I wanna focus on getting Ian back." Seth perked up and nodded. Mickey appreciated him even more.

Chandler frowned. "I hate to say this, but you really shouldn't get your hopes up, Mickey. It was a rescind order. Rescind orders are difficult to overturn and..."

Chandler.

Always the negative, annoying voice of reason.

Mickey was already on the emotional edge.

"...Ian's mom seems like the type who won't hesitate to report you to the Ministry. You can't take that chance. I know it's hard, but maybe you should leave Ian alone for a..."

Mickey exploded.

"You know what, Chandler? I'm sick of you! I'm sick of your negative, cowardly, bow down to authority bullshit! You and my father! Follow the rules, Mickey. Do what the Ministry says, Mickey. Well you know what following the rules has gotten me? Nothing! I followed the fucking rules, and the rules screwed me!"

"I just don't want to see you get hurt! You can't just demand that his mother..."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I don't wanna hear it! You know what Seth, you better hope nothing ever happens to you because if it does, you are ass out! Chandler will be too busy following the damn rules to come save you!"

Chandler looked like he had just been slapped while Rachel, Finn and Kevin were speechless. Seth was rocking back and forth, crying softly. He hated yelling. Chandler stood up.

"I'm out. I'm done. I'm fucking done trying to be your friend. I know you're going through a horrible time, but you...how dare you. I don't need this shit. Come on, Seth."

Seth slowly stood up, tears running down his face. He took a step to follow Chandler and stopped. "Please...please...I...I don't want...we're losing everybody. Please, Chandler? Don't...please Mickey...please be friends." Seth started sobbing. First Ian. Now Mickey. Everything was falling apart.

Chandler wrapped his arms around Seth. Mickey sat on the couch with his face in his hands. Maybe he should just go back to bed.

Kevin took charge. "All right, look. We're all under stress. This entire thing has been horrible and terrible and very, very stressful. Chandler...you know Mickey didn't mean it. He's just...things are bad and he's taking out his frustration on you because he can't beat the shit out of Ian's mom. And Mickey, you know Chandler loves you. He just sees the world a little differently, but he's your friend and right now you need your friends. So, let's all just sit down and calm down before Seth has a nervous breakdown. Don't you have some wine around here? We need some alcohol."

Rachel sent Finn to the kitchen for wine and glasses. Chandler sat back down with Seth at his feet, his head resting in Chandler's lap. Chandler looked at Mickey. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just don't want you to get in trouble. You can't..." Chandler stopped himself. He decided to just keep his mouth shut from now on.

Mickey sighed. He felt tired. So very old and tired. "I'm sorry too. I apologize for what I said. I know you'd do anything for Seth."

Finn appeared with two bottles of wine and several glasses.

Amazing what 30 minutes and wine can do.

For the first time in weeks the atmosphere inside the apartment relaxed. Rachel was giggling and swapping theater stories with Kevin, while Chandler was on the floor cuddling with Seth. He was discreetly stroking Seth's dick and whispering promises to whip him until he passed out when they returned home. Finn was sneaking looks at them and wondering why he felt turned on.

Mickey stared at the floor and allowed the voices to float over and around him. He was grateful they weren't trying to force him into conversation. Their presence was enough for now because he knew he would eventually be alone. It reminded him of his mother's death. For the first few weeks there were people in and out of the house, bringing food and checking on him and his dad, but then life went on. People returned to their own lives and he and his dad were forced to find their way forward.

He didn't want to move forward.

Not without Ian.

At least Ian was alive and well in California.

Frank didn't have it in him to tell Mickey the truth. At least not until he knew what the truth was.

Instead he told Mickey that Ian and Monica were in California. As soon as they returned to Ohio, Frank would deliver the trunk and check on Ian.

Mickey just hoped Monica took Ian to the beach. Ian liked the beach.

* * *

A week later Quinn sat across from Frank in his small office at the tire and lube shop. She was back from spying on Monica in California.

"Not once?"

Quinn shook her head. "Not one time. He definitely wasn't at the hotel she was staying at. I managed to bribe the concierge to let me in her suite. Ian wasn't there. There was no sign of him at all. No clothes, no hair gel, nothing. And I never saw him with her. She spent her days in meetings, visiting manufacturing facilities, and at the spa. I never saw Ian."

Frank sat back. "If he's not with her, and he's not in Westerville, then where the hell is he?"

Quinn shifted in her chair. "Perhaps it's time for us to get some...professional help?"

"Like what?"

"We need someone who does this kind of thing for a living."

"You mean like a private investigator?"

"Yeah...sorta."

Frank rubbed his forehead and thought about it.

"Well I guess it can't hurt. I'll see if some of the security guys know someone."

"Actually..." Quinn blushed and looked a little sheepish. "I might know someone who can help us."

"Really? Who?"

"A friend. Let me make a call and I'll let you know in the next day or two. In the meantime, are you going to tell Mickey the truth, or are you going to keep lying to him?"

Frank sighed. "It sounds so bad when you put it like that. Yes, I'm going to tell him. He deserves to know the truth, I just hate to give him more bad news on top of everything else."

Quinn nodded. "I understand, but he should to know. He still considers himself Ian's master. He should know what's happening with his slave."

* * *

Wednesday evening Mickey was sitting on the couch listening to Kevin's plea for him to return to the show. Rachel was also there, nodding in agreement with everything Kevin said. She wanted to see Mickey back at work because she thought it would be good for him, but she had selfish reasons as well. She missed having Finn with her at rehearsals.

"Look, I know you want to focus on getting Ian back, but you can't stop living while you do that. You haven't left the apartment in almost a month. That's not good, Mickey. Ian wanted you to stay in the show. He told me that. He didn't want you to abandon your career. And, forgive me for being honest, but you can't afford to abandon your career. Despite your recent food boycott, you've gotta eat. When Ian comes home you need to be able to take care of him. You need to work, Mickey."

Mickey knew Kevin was right. Getting Ian back was going to be harder and take longer than he'd thought. He'd been spending his days researching ways to appeal a rescind order and file for return of a slave. It was an uphill battle and the success rate appeared to be zero. The only slaves ever returned were in cases where the parents decided to do so. All other removals by rescind order remained permanent, especially if there was a question of abuse. The research left Mickey in a haze of depression and sadness. He wanted Ian home. Now. He missed him and he needed him. Bad. Especially since he was starting to feel something he hadn't experienced in a very long time.

The unfulfilled need to dominate.

Mickey hadn't thought about his need to dominate since high school. Once he claimed Ian it wasn't a problem. His dominance was constantly fed by Ian's submission. But now Mickey's dominance was grieving the loss of Ian and growing hungry. Mickey ignored the gnawing ache deep in the pit of his stomach. He would just have to deal until Ian came home.

"Kevin...I can't come back to the show. As soon as Ian is back in Ohio, I'm going to see him."

"You are?"

"Yes. I have to make sure he's okay and I need to talk to Monica. I have to at least try to convince her to give him back to me."

Rachel frowned. "But Mickey...are you allowed to do that? What makes you think she'll let you see Ian or even listen to you?"

"I have to try. I have to try everything. I have to get him back. I have to."

Mickey's cell phone rang. His dad.

Mickey stood up and walked to the window. "Hi. How are you? Is Ian back?"

"I'm fine. Is someone there with you?"

"Kevin, Rachel and Finn are here. Why?"

"I have something to tell you and I don't want you to be alone. Now don't panic. It may not mean anything, but...I think you should know."

Mickey closed his eyes and clenched the phone. How much more could he take? "Okay. What?"

Frank slowly recounted the visit to the Gallagher home and Quinn's spying on Monica.

"So, what are you saying? Are you saying that Monica...she...she doesn't have him? Has she...did...did she give..." Mickey's head started spinning and he couldn't breathe. He felt darkness swallowing him. His cell phone slid from his fingers and fell to the floor followed by Mickey.

Rachel jumped up. "Mickey! Mickey! Oh, my God! Mickey!" Finn grabbed the phone. "Hello? Frank! Hey, what's..." Finn listened as Rachel and Kevin helped Mickey to the couch. "Yeah...um...okay. Yeah, Mickey's...well, he kinda passed out or something, but he's okay. Um...yeah...okay, yeah. Bye."

"Mickey, what happened? What did he say?"

Mickey shook his head as the tears started to fall.

"He's not in Ohio. They...they don't think she has him...they don't...they don't know where he is. They don't know where he is and they don't think she has him. Where is he? Where is he? Where the hell is he!"

* * *

Ian had no idea how long he'd been on the island. He'd completely lost any sense of days and time. It all just ran together, broken up by eating, swimming, watching movies, playing chess and talking. It was impossible not to have conversations with a person you spent so much time with, especially when they were the only person around. The topics were always chosen by Kash. They argued over movies, television, gay rights, and whether or not Maroon 5 would ever get back to their Songs About Jane greatness, but Kash was careful to never allow their conversations to drift into the personal. He didn't want to hear about how wonderful Mickey was and how much Ian missed him, and he refused to answer questions about Tristan or anything else in his past. He also refused to listen to Ian's pleas to be released. When Ian brought it up, Kash would simply smile and shake his head.

"Just accept it, Ian. It's me and you. You and me. Now that I finally have you...I'll never let you go."

The look in Kash's eyes and the tone of his voice left Ian nervous, paranoid and frightened.

Especially since he could feel the shifting and reconnecting going on inside him.

His true nature was starting to grow, weakening his strength.

Once a slave has been claimed and dominated on a daily basis, they struggle to live without it. Especially if they had a master who took excellent care of them, going above and beyond to feed their submission. Without Mickey, Ian was beginning to suffer. Day by day his submission was slowly growing, and with it an acute yearning to be controlled and dominated. The lack of a collar intensified the feeling. As Ian's submission grew, so did the longing for a master.

And Kash was the only master in his presence.

Ian was determined to fight what was happening. He ignored the slow, deep, boil simmering low in his stomach, while he fought to suppress the submission that grew a little stronger and more persistent every day. He was extra careful not to immediately respond to Kash's simple requests like, "hand me the remote," for fear of feeding his submission through obedience to a master. When he could feel Kash's presence affecting him, he would shut down his mind and run to the woods. There he would hide and scream at the sky.

"Kuuurrrt! Hurry up and find me! I'm somewhere in Europe! Please find me! Please! I want to obey you, I do! I don't wanna submit, but...it's getting hard! So fucking hard! Please, Mickey! Find me! Please find me!"

But he was sure Mickey had no way of finding him.

So he fought his mind and battled his nature.

And wondered when Kash would push him over the edge.

Kash loved when Ian went to the woods to scream.

He considered it a sign of progress.

Ian was starting to crack.

Kash pretended not to notice Ian's struggle, but he knew exactly what was going on. It was what he'd been waiting for. It was what gave him the strength to resist the urge to press Ian up against a wall, rip his clothes off and fuck him till he begged for mercy.

Kash was not a rapist.

No. The slaves always wanted him. Always.

And he wanted Ian to want him.

To want him in the worst, most desperate way possible. He wanted Ian a broken, melted, dripping mess of submission and need at his feet. And then, and only then, would Kash take him.

He planned to dominate the fuck out of Ian.

And knowing that gayface Milkovich was somewhere crying his eyes out was just icing on the cake.

This wasn't just about Kash's desire for Ian. This was also about revenge. Revenge on Mickey for standing in the way, and taking something Kash really wanted. Despite all of his sexual conquests, and the countless slaves who wanted him, Ian's refusal had cut Kash deeply. Something about being so completely denied and unwanted had left him questioning his worth, making it difficult for him to accept love from anyone, no matter how sincere, pure, strong and true.

Like Tristan's love.

But Kash didn't blame Ian. He blamed Mickey. Mickey was the master who ruled over Ian's mind. Kash was convinced that if it hadn't been for Mickey, Ian would have been his back in high school.

But that was okay.

He could be patient because he always got his way. Always. He'd explained this to Ian years ago.

It wouldn't be much longer.

Ian was starting to fall apart. A little more each day, and at night, without realizing it, Ian was scooting closer to Kash in bed. His submission instinctively being drawn closer to Kash's masterful presence.

It was just a matter of time.

* * *

Frank cautiously glanced around the restaurant and then at Quinn.

"This is where this guy wanted to meet?"

"No, this is where I suggested we meet."

Frank looked around again. "Why? This place is a dump."

Quinn sighed. Despite having been in Congress for several years, Frank sometimes acted like he'd just arrived yesterday.

"Exactly. No one who would recognize the Congressman from the state of Ohio will be here."

Frank nodded. "Right. Who are we meeting again?"

Quinn shifted and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Someone who can circumvent the Ministry and help us track down Ian."

"I know that, Quinn. What's his name?"

Quinn suddenly looked nervous as her cheeks flushed. Frank took a closer look at her. Quinn was always attractive, but today she seemed even more beautiful. Her hair was down instead of up, and instead of her usual business suit, she was wearing a pretty yellow dress. Her face was a bit more made up than usual.

"Quinn? Exactly who are we…"

Quinn's face lit up before she forced herself to control her expression. Frank turned around.

A tall young man with dark skin and a black mohawk was striding towards them. He was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt, a black leather jacket and dark sunglasses. He had diamonds in both ears.

He stopped at their table, whipped off his sunglasses and looked down at Quinn.

"Hello Noah."

"Noah? Wow. I haven't been called that in years. Damn Fabray. You're still smoking hot."

"And I haven't been called, smoking hot in years."

"Are those Yale and Capitol Hill boys blind?"

The two stood there staring at each other until Frank cleared his throat.

"Oh, um, Noah, do you remember Mickey's father, Congressman Frank Milkovich?"

"Sure. What's up?"

Frank frowned as he looked Noah up and down. "Hello."

Noah dragged a chair over from another table and sat down.

"I saw Beth last month. Shelby mentioned that it's been awhile since you stopped by."

Noah slowly nodded. "I have to be careful. There are people out there who can't know about Beth. It's safer for both of them if I stay away, but I see her. Trust me, I see her. Shelby just doesn't know it."

"It would be nice if Beth could see you."

Noah's eyes turned cool. "Is that why you called me?"

Quinn turned businesslike. "No. We need your help. More specifically, Mickey needs your help."

Noah glanced at Frank and cocked an eyebrow. "What could Mickey need help with that a big, bad, powerful congressman can't handle?"

Quinn shook her head. "At this point Frank can't be involved. He's already done too much. It's a rather complicated and delicate matter. We need to be discreet."

"What's the problem?"

"We need to find Mickey's slave, Ian Gallagher."

"Mickey lost his slave?"

"He was taken from him."

"Kidnapped?"

Quinn hesitated for a moment. "Rescind order."

Noah sat back and whistled. "What the hell did Milkovich do?"

Frank's anger flared up. "Nothing! He didn't do anything!"

"He must have done something to get a rescind order slapped on his ass."

Frank was about to get going, but Quinn held up her hand to stop him.

"Listen, I can assure that Mickey did nothing wrong. Let me explain."

As Quinn began telling the story of the past two months, Frank tried to remember the relationship between Quinn and Noah. What was the story? Noah... Puckerman. Yeah, Noah Puckerman, usually called Puck. They had a baby girl who they gave up for adoption. Quinn was a master and Noah...well he seemed like a master. How had they had a baby together?

It wasn't until Noah stretched his arms behind his head, that Frank was able to catch a glimpse of his ink stained left wrist. It was a half stain. It didn't go all the way around his wrist. Of course. How could he have forgotten?

While very rare, there were people born with only a half stain on their wrist. While recognized as slaves by the Ministry, half stained slaves had a hard time finding a master. Most masters want a slave who will submit to them completely. Half stained slaves will submit, but only to a certain point. They have just enough dominance inside them to make complete submission impossible. Half stained slaves had a tendency to live by their own rules instead of the Ministry's, much to the Ministry's chagrin.

Once Quinn finished the story, Noah sat quietly for several minutes.

"All right. Let's say I'm willing to help Milkovich out. Once I find Ian, what does he plan to do?"

Quinn spoke carefully. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now we just need to find Ian."

Noah shook his head. "Uh uh. You're asking me to interfere with a rescind order. That's dangerous shit. Even more dangerous if Mickey plans to contact him or worse, try stealing him back. I need to know what Mickey's plans are."

Frank spoke up. "Mickey doesn't have a plan. He doesn't even know we're doing this. I'd rather not get him involved until we have to."

Noah looked at Quinn. "So, why me?"

"Because I heard you would good."

"Yeah. You do know how good I am, don't you?

Quinn turned slightly pink. "Good at slave tracking...among other things. I did my research, Noah. I know what you've been involved with. Legal and illegal. And I know the Ministry tried to recruit you, but you turned them down, pissing them off further. I figured you'd be willing to help because you don't like the Ministry, and you know Mickey."

"I'm willing to help, but I ain't free. Not even for old friends."

"Of course I'll pay you for your services," said Frank.

"I'm not cheap."

Quinn's voice turned dominant. "Perhaps we can work something out. A discount for old times sake."

Frank watched in surprise as submission flashed in Noah's eyes. His physical demeanor softened slightly as Quinn stared at him.

"Maybe. I'll think about it. In the mean time, I'll start making a few inquiries."

"How?" asked Frank. "The Ministry doesn't answer questions or share details."

Noah's dominance returned. "You just don't know the right people to ask. That's what I'm for, remember?"

Noah stood up. "I'll be in touch." He turned to leave but then turned back.

"You're still the most beautiful girl in the world, Quinn, and trust me, I've seen plenty."

Quinn's smile lit up the entire restaurant.

* * *

Tristan slowly walked home. He was tired, but it was a good tired. An accomplished tired.

Tristan had a job.

Despite having a degree in marketing, Tristan decided to get a job working at a neighborhood grocery store. He didn't want to work in the business world where he would have to deal with masters day in and day out. Especially since he didn't have a collar for protection. For now working at the grocery store was enough. He didn't have to think too hard and he felt safe around his co-workers, all of whom were straight.

Tristan was very aware of his looks. He knew he was considered beautiful. His beauty made him desirable, and being collarless made him even more attractive. He had to be careful. Especially since his need to be dominated was starting to choke him. If he ran into a master with a strong enough presence, it would be over. He knew he would submit immediately, and he didn't want that. He wanted to be claimed.

He wanted Kash.

He tried not to think about him. It hurt too much. He still didn't understand why Kash released him in such a cold, cruel way. He knew Kash was lying when he said he didn't love him. Tristan was sure he was the only person Kash had ever loved, but for some reason he couldn't get past his demons and accept Tristan's love in return. Tristan always tried to make Kash see that his love for him wasn't tied solely to their master/slave relationship. He loved Kash the man as well as the master. He thought Kash was finally beginning to accept and believe this when he blindsided him with the unclaiming. It didn't make sense.

So now he was alone and unclaimed in New York City. He had to be careful. He'd decided to stay away from the free clubs, and not because Kash told him to. As desperate as he felt, he knew the clubs would only lead to trouble.

Kash had sent him a text saying he could stay in the apartment for as long as he wanted, but Tristan didn't trust him. He could live off the money from the job, and save the money Kash had given him, just in case he turned up one day to throw him out. After all, it had happened before.

Tristan entered the apartment and locked the door behind him. He put down his bag and took off his shirt. He pulled off the rubber band holding his hair back and allowed it to fall to his shoulders. Maybe he would cut his hair. A fresh start.

He was heading towards the kitchen when there was a knock at the door.

He stood still, listening. He didn't know anyone who would visit him. Maybe he was hearing things.

Another knock.

Tristan's heart leapt. Only one person knew he was here. He ran to the door and flung it open.

"Well hello, Pocahontas."

Royce.

Tristan stepped back as Royce's dominance assaulted his senses, sending his submission into a frenzy.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were in town so I thought I'd stop by."

Royce walked in. Tristan steadied himself as he closed the door. He felt slightly drunk.

Royce stood in the middle of the living room and ran his eyes lustfully up and down Tristan's body. He'd always thought Tristan was far too beautiful for Kash.

"So, how ya been?"

Tristan remained by the door. A million alarms were ringing in his head. He'd known Royce for as long as he'd known Kash. He knew what Royce was like. What he was capable of. This was dangerous.

"Um, I've been fine."

"Really? You don't look fine. I mean, you look beautiful as always, but...you definitely don't look fine. You look rather...hungry."

Tristan gripped the doorknob tighter.

"Are you, Tristan? Are you hungry?"

Tristan knew he should run, but Royce's dominance was strong and familiar, almost soothing. In part because he'd been around it for years, and in part because Royce was strong like Kash.

Royce always wanted what Kash had.

"Come here, Tristan."

"Maybe you should leave."

Royce stared into Tristan's eyes, his dominance burning into him. "Come here, Tristan."

Tristan slowly walked towards him. Royce smiled and reached over to twirl a few strands of Tristan's hair around his finger. "Your hair is beautiful, Tristan. You're beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He leaned over and softly kissed Tristan's neck. Tristan shivered.

"Royce...you...you should leave. You can't do this. You don't want to do this. You're Kash's best friend."

Royce stared into Tristan's eyes and took pleasure from the confused swirl of desire, need, hatred and fear. "You're not his slave anymore, Tristan. You're free."

Tristan shook his head. He definitely wasn't free. He still loved Kash. "Please...don't do this to me. To him. You're his best friend. You're his very best friend."

"All the more reason why it's better that's it me and not someone else."

Royce pushed Tristan up against the wall and pressed his body into his. Tristan groaned brokenly as Royce's dominance collided with his starving submission.

Tristan didn't have a chance.

Royce kept him trapped in the apartment for three days.

He was cruel, sadistic and insatiable.

He fulfilled every fantasy he'd ever had about fucking his best friend's slave.

Tristan hated himself for enjoying it, but he couldn't help it. It felt so good to be brutally dominated and used after months of constant cravings. He simply closed his eyes and pretended it was Kash.

When he was finally done, Royce dressed and smiled with sick satisfaction at the sight of Tristan, lying on the floor, naked, wrecked and completely consumed.

"Well, Tristan, I'll be sure to tell Kash you're doing well and that he was a fool to get rid of such a delicious fuck."

"W-what? No! No! You can't! You can't tell him about this!"

Royce shrugged. "Why not? You're not his anymore, remember? He unclaimed you, and I'm pretty sure he's moved on. I haven't seen him in weeks which leads me to believe he's busy fucking someone. But don't worry. I'll tell him you managed to say hello between sucking my cock and screaming my name."

"No! Please! Don't tell him! Please! I still love him! Please! He can't ever know! He can't! Please!

Royce smiled. "Bye Tristan."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Mickey sat inside the town car, staring at the theater. Everything felt wrong, off-balance and out of order.

 _This is your life now._

Mickey sighed as his shoulders drooped and his stomach twisted in anxiety. Maybe he should go back home.

 _You can't do that. This is your life. For now this is your life. Think of Ian._

Ian wanted him to do this, but to do it without Ian... to do life without Ian...

Troy the driver was watching Mickey through the rear view mirror.

"Would you like to return home?"

Mickey shook his head. "No. I just need a minute."

"Take your time."

Mickey closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back on to the leather car seat.

Time.

How much time would it take for Ian to submit to his new master?

The news that Monica didn't have Ian and might have given him to another master, threatened to send Mickey reeling back into his lifeless state of depression and despair. This time it was the couch instead of the bed. He sat there for three days as Rachel and Kevin tried to soften the blow of Frank's news. Just because Ian wasn't at the house or with Monica didn't mean she'd given him to someone. Maybe he was with Lip, or maybe the staff was lying and he really was stashed in the house somewhere.

But Mickey was convinced Monica had given Ian away. It was the only thing that made sense. She didn't care about allegations of Mickey abusing him. That was just a smokescreen. She wanted Ian back to give to someone. Probably as a pawn in her business dealings. Chandler's words floated through Mickey's mind.

 _"...how did you end up with Ian? I mean...slaves from families like his...they tend to use them as a part of business deals."_

He should have known their happiness wouldn't last. His happiness rarely lasted, but with Ian he thought he would finally get to stay in happily ever after. They'd come so close. One more year and the rescind option would have expired. He had dared to dream and ended up in a nightmare.

In the end it was Seth who made Mickey get off the couch. When he and Chandler came over, Chandler sat down and said nothing. Not one word. It was his new strategy. Keep mouth shut and don't say anything that will upset Mickey. But Seth took one look at Mickey and frowned.

"Why are you just sitting here? What are you doing to get Ian back?"

Chandler shot him a horrified look. "Seth! Be quiet!"

Seth wasn't about to disobey his master, but he gave Mickey a mean glare.

"It's okay. I don't know, Seth. We don't know where Ian is."

Seth couldn't help himself. "Are you even looking for him?" He didn't dare look at Chandler. He knew he would be in so much trouble when they returned home.

"I don't know where to look."

"So, you're not even going to try?"

"Seth! Enough! One more word and I won't whip you for a month!"

Seth shut his mouth and lowered his eyes to the ground. He couldn't go a month without being whipped. He already hated when Chandler took breaks to give his back time to heal and recover.

"Really, Chandler, it's okay. I am trying, Seth. I really am. I just...I'm not having much luck."

Mickey had been leaving pleading messages on Monica's cell and office phones everyday begging her to call him and tell him where Ian was. In response he received a threatening letter from Perlson of the Master's Ministry, reminding him that he was not allowed to contact his former slave's family, or try to contact Ian because that could cause confusion. Ian needed time to adjust to his new master.

Ian's new master.

Mickey's insides burned from the thought of Ian submitting to another master. His sadness turned to rage. He'd torn the letter to pieces and then destroyed his living room.

Mickey could tell Seth was dying to speak. He looked at Chandler.

"Chandler, please let him ask his questions. He's Ian's best friend. He deserves to know what's going on."

"I just don't want you to get upset."

"Being upset is a constant for me. It's my new lifestyle."

Chandler reluctantly nodded at Seth.

"What about your show?"

"It's not my show anymore."

"But Ian wanted you to finish your show! It's part of why he didn't wanna run!"

"What?"

"Ian didn't want you to go to jail, but he also wanted you to finish your show and win your Tony."

Mickey looked at him in surprise. "What? That...that doesn't make any sense. There's no guarantee I'm going to win a Tony award, or even get nominated."

Seth nodded vigorously. "Uh huh. Ian's convinced you're going to win. He planned to run away from his mom and be home in time to attend your opening night."

"Run away? He can't run away! They'll send trackers after him!"

"Well, that's his plan. Figure out a way to run away and be home in time for your opening night."

Mickey looked at Chandler, but Chandler said nothing. He wasn't about to say what he was thinking. That Mickey should tell Monica of Ian's plan so she could warn his new master and keep it from happening. Trackers were evil bastards. They would find Ian, abuse the hell out of him, and then return him to his new master who might abuse him for running away. Nope. He wasn't about to voice his thoughts.

That night Mickey laid on the couch and thought about what Seth had said. He finally called Kevin.

"No promises, but I'll try."

And now he couldn't even get out of the car.

He was about to tell Troy to take him back home when there was a knock on the window. Brad. Mickey rolled down the window.

"Hey! Hi! I heard you were coming back! That's awesome! I've really missed you. Tony's nice and all, but that's the problem. He's too nice. I've missed my bitchy, superior ass, diva co-star, who pushes me to be a better actor."

Mickey managed a small half smile. His first in a long time.

Brad opened the door and held out his hand. "Come on."

Mickey took his hand. "Thank you."

* * *

Kash was lying very, very still.

He was barely breathing.

But inside he was dancing.

Ian had finally closed the space between them in bed.

Ian had been inching closer and closer to him for the past week. His submission couldn't help it. It was starving and at night Ian wasn't awake to stop its natural inclinations. During the day he struggled constantly to fight the submissive urges racing through him. It was exhausting which led to him falling asleep the minute he was chained to the bed.

Around 3:00 am Kash was awakened by a soft bump. He opened his eyes to find a mass of black curls inches from his nose. Ian had scooted all the way over and was lying on his side, his back facing Kash. Kash slowly and gently stretched out his arm to wrap it protectively around Ian's waist. He scooted closer to Ian until they were spooning. To Kash's delight, Ian snuggled back into his embrace, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his body gratefully relaxed into the warmth of a master. Kash couldn't have been happier. He placed a gentle kiss to the back of Ian's head before closing his eyes and returning to sleep.

As night turned to morning, Ian hummed and settled deeper into the arms holding him. Strong, protective arms, heavy around his body. The weight felt so nice.

Wait...

Heavy?

Mickey's arms were strong and muscular, but definitely not heavy. Mickey was lean and light.

Ian opened his eyes. It took him a moment. When he realized his position, he tried to break free. Kash instinctively tightened his grip.

"No! Get off of me! Let me go!"

Kash opened his eyes. "Huh?"

"Let go of me! Get off me!" Ian squirmed and tried to break free. Kash squeezed tighter.

"Ian relax."

"No! I don't want you!"

Ian broke free from Kash's hole and tried to roll away from him, but Kash pulled him back. He scrambled on top of Ian and grabbed his hands, pinning them above his head.

Their position and closeness sent off triggers and signals throughout both their bodies. The response was natural, instinctive and immediate.

Kash pressed his body down on to Ian.

Ian froze. His eyes closed and an erotic moan rose from the submissive, simmering, sexual hunger deep inside him.

The press of a master is incapacitating for a slave.

Especially one whose submission is starving.

Kash lost focus as Ian's moan set off a chain reaction. Dominance filled his body and collided with Ian's submission.

"Oh...fuck. Ian...oh...Ian..."

Ian moaned in response.

Shit. No. Fuck.

Kash's mind and body waged an internal war. This was not how he wanted Ian. If this was how he wanted him, he could have done this weeks ago. It was too soon. He wanted Ian broken and begging.

But those moans...

Ian struggled to gain control, but was losing. Submission flooded his body and was taking over his brain. It would only be a few more seconds...

Kash rolled off of him and out of bed.

Ian opened his eyes and sat up. His submission was screaming. He looked at Kash and fought to stop the competing voices in head.

I belong to Mickey. I belong to Mickey. I belong to Mickey.

 _No you don't! He's not your master anymore! You don't wear his collar!_

It doesn't matter! I am the fully owned property of Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich. He is my master.

 _No, you're not. You're free. You need a new master._

"No!"

Kash backed away from the bed. He was struggling to get his desire and dominant lust under control. The two stared at each other until Kash unlocked Ian's chains and left the room before Ian's feet hit the floor. He couldn't be near him. If he stayed in the room, he would take him. He would take him over, and over, and over again and he didn't want to. Not yet.

Ian sat shaking on the edge of the bed. He was terrified by what had just happened. What could have happened.

What he'd wanted to happen.

He had to get out of there.

He went to the closet and threw on a pair of jeans, a shirt and sneakers. He ran down the stairs and out of the house towards the woods. Tears rolled down his face as he ran deeper and deeper inside. He usually stayed on the outskirts, but this time he wanted to get lost. He had to get away from Kash and from his own submissive hunger and lust. He kept running until he tripped on a log and fell. He scrambled across the forest floor and under a small covering created by fallen logs and brush. He pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms tightly around his body.

Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey.

As he sat there slowly rocking, his mind started spiraling.

What if Mickey wasn't looking for him?

What if Mickey had moved on? How long had it been? Mickey was a strong master. He needed to dominate. Maybe Mickey had claimed another slave.

He shook his head and sobbed. "No! He's my master! Mine!"

 _Then where is he, Ian? Why hasn't he come to find you?_

"Shut up!" Ian closed his eyes and rocked faster.

Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey.

Kash didn't start to worry until after lunch. He wasn't surprised when Ian skipped breakfast. He knew Ian was fighting not to submit, and now Kash was fighting to keep control. He was glad Ian disappeared for awhile. It gave him time to calm down and get his dominant desire back on lockdown. He'd been keeping it in check for two months. He was too close to let it get the best of him. He was determined to wait until Ian fell apart.

When Ian didn't show up for lunch Kash went looking for him. He wasn't in any of his usual hiding places. Kash was sure he would come home for dinner. After all, he should be starving by now.

As evening approached and storm clouds gathered, Kash started really worrying. He grabbed a flashlight and headed for the woods.

"Ian! Ian! Ian, come on! It's getting dark and it's gonna rain! Ian!"

An hour passed. Kash started to panic. He made John come help him. "Search along the shore line. I'll keep checking the woods."

Kash picked his way through the woods, screaming Ian's name. He was growing hysterical. After 45 minutes, he returned to the house. John shook his head.

"I didn't see him."

Kash ran back outside. It was starting to rain. John ran after him. "Sir! Kash! You can't go back in there! It's dark and it's about to storm!"

"I can't leave him out there all night!"

Kash ran towards the woods. It was pitch black and the rain was falling harder. Kash was screaming in full panic mode. "Ian! Please, Ian! Where are you? Answer me! Ian! I command you to come out!"

The wind picked up and lightning crashed across the sky. Kash kept screaming until he heard someone screaming his name. He whipped around to see John.

"Kash! I must insist that you come inside! This is crazy! You're not going to find him tonight! Come on!"

John grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the house. Once inside he made Kash take off his wet clothes. He brought him a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. Kash settled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the french doors. Waiting. John made him a cup of tea and tried to get him to go to bed. Kash shook his head. No, he was waiting downstairs for Ian. Eventually he fell asleep.

He was awakened the next morning by sunlight pouring into the room. He jumped up and ran to his bedroom.

No Ian.

He dressed quickly, ran back downstairs and out of the house towards the woods.

Ian slowly sat up. He was cold, soaking wet and shivering. He crawled out from under the covering and tried to stand. He was dizzy and his blood sugar was low from no food. His throat was sore, his body achy and his head hurt. He took a few steps forward and fell. He slowly stood up again and began to stumble through the woods, tripping and falling every few feet. After a few minutes he heard someone calling his name. "Mickey? I'm over here, Mickey." He thought he was yelling, but he was really only whispering. "Mickey? I'm here, Mickey. Over here."

He kept stumbling towards the voice. "Ian! Ian!"

"I'm coming, Mickey." He tried to run towards the voice, but tripped and crashed to the ground. His body didn't want to get back up. Maybe he would take a little nap and wait for Mickey to find him...

"Ian!" Kash ran to him. "Oh, Ian! Shit!" He rolled Ian over and scooped him up. Ian wrapped his arms around Kash's neck as he mumbled incoherently. Kash slowly made their way through the woods and out. He screamed for John.

"Run a hot bath! He's freezing!"

As John prepared the bath, Kash quickly removed Ian's wet and muddy clothes. Ian drifted in and out of consciousness. Kash carried him to the bathroom and gently placed him in the tub. As he washed Ian's body and hair, Ian started to regain his senses. He stared at Kash for a few minutes before closing his eyes and relaxing in the in the warm water. He was too achy and sleepy to protest Kash's strong hands moving all over his body.

Kash dried him off, dressed him in pajamas and put him in bed. He then stripped down to his briefs and climbed in beside him, wrapping his arms around him. Ian didn't protest or try to fight. He was too weak and tired. He simply snuggled closer and fell asleep.

* * *

Mickey asked Troy to let him out a few blocks from home. He felt like walking.

He'd been back in the show for a week and talent-wise it was as if he'd never left. Everyone was impressed with his ability to pick up where he'd left off. He quickly caught up with the rest of the cast, and was able to move forward with the new material, but his heart wasn't in it. How could he be dancing and singing on stage while Ian was somewhere out there waiting for him to find him? Despite what Seth said about Ian wanting him to finish the show, it still felt wrong. He should be doing something to find Ian. His father told him to sit tight.

"It's best if you lay low for awhile, Mickey. I'm working on a few leads. Just be patient and try to stay busy."

"But what if Seth is right? What if Ian tries to run away? The trackers will show no mercy, especially if he's back to the way he was in high school."

"I hate to say this, Mickey, but...if Ian is back to the way he was in high school, I doubt he'd try to run away."

Mickey's stomach twisted into the tight, painful knot that came whenever he thought of Ian with someone else. Submitting to someone else.

"We gotta hurry, dad. We gotta hurry up and find him before..."

"I know son. I know."

Mickey walked along until he came to a grocery store. He stopped and tried to decide if he wanted to go in. Agnes the costume designer had been shocked when she saw him.

"Do you plan to gain weight or keep losing? Because at this rate I need to redo all of your outfits."

Mickey assured her that he would be back at his normal weight for the show. Of course, that meant he needed to start eating like a normal person again, or at least normal for him.

He decided to pick up a few things. As he wandered up and down the aisles, he started placing more and more things in his basket. He hadn't been shopping in weeks. When he reached the cereal aisle he stared at the boxes of Apple Jacks. A box of cereal should not send a person into an emotional breakdown. He stood there for several minutes before grabbing a box.

When he reached the checkout, he was surprised at the amount of things in his cart. The store clerk rang everything up and bagged all the items. Mickey stared at the bags.

"Shit."

The clerk looked at him. "Did you forget something?"

"No, I just didn't realize how much stuff I bought. I'm going to need a taxi."

"Do you live far from here?"

"No, just a few blocks, but this is more than I can carry by myself."

"Well...I'm off now. I'd be happy to help you."

Mickey focused on the clerk for the first time. He was the same height as Mickey with smooth brown skin and dark eyes. He was very beautiful, but his hair was a mess. It looked like someone had tried to cut it for him, but had no idea what they were doing.

"Oh, that's really nice of you to offer, but I don't want you to go out of your way. I'm sure that's not part of the customer service plan."

The clerk gave him a little smile. "No, it's not, but I don't mind. Really. I don't have anything else to do."

The clerk lifted his apron over his head and hung it on a hook. Mickey noticed the ink stain around his wrist. His eyes immediately went to his neck. How was it possible that a slave this beautiful wasn't claimed?

They divided the bags between them and started walking. They walked in silence the entire way. They didn't speak until they were inside Mickey's apartment.

"Do you want me to help you unpack?"

"Oh, no. Thank you, but you've done more than enough. I really appreciate it..."

"Tristan."

"Mickey."

They stood there for a moment staring at each other when it dawned on Mickey that this was strange. And dangerous. He'd just let a perfect stranger inside his apartment. He suddenly felt the strong need to get rid of him.

"Okay, well thank you."

"You're welcome."

Tristan turned to leave. As he followed behind him, Mickey couldn't help but notice his hair again. It really was a mess. Was the cut diagonal on purpose? The need to get rid of Tristan was replaced with the need to fix his disastrous hair.

"Hey, um...I...please don't take this the wrong way, but...um...did someone try to cut your hair?"

Tristan blushed a little as his hand immediately went to his hair.

"Oh. Yeah. It's pretty bad isn't it? I actually did it myself. Big mistake. My hair used to be really long and I wanted to cut it. I did it when I was really upset. I should have waited."

Mickey nodded. "Never make major fashion decisions or style changes while upset. Almost always leads to regret."

Tristan smiled. Wow. Damn. He really was beautiful. Mickey felt his dominance rise a little. Tristan's submission stirred. He quickly headed to the door.

"Well, I'll see you around."

"Wait! Um...it was nice of you to help me. Maybe I could do something for you."

"Oh, that's not necessary. It was no problem."

"I'd like to. Why don't you let me fix your hair? I'm really good with styling. Believe it or not, I trim my own and my..."

He stopped.

"I don't know..."

"Please? I mean, seriously? I couldn't possibly make it look any worse."

Tristan laughed. Mickey ran his eyes up and down Tristan's body. How was he not claimed?

Tristan was thoughtful. He could feel Mickey's dominance, but it didn't feel threatening. It was why he offered to help him. He was the first master he'd met in a long time whose dominance felt strong, but not frightening.

"Okay. Do you wanna do it now, or I could come back or something."

"No, now is fine. Let me put the groceries away. You can have a seat in the living room."

Tristan looked around the living room. It was clean and neat. He looked at the photographs. Mickey and a gorgeous guy with curly black hair. He picked up one of the frames and studied the picture. The guy with black hair was wearing a collar. Had to be Mickey's slave. Tristan put the picture down and looked around. Where was the guy in the picture?

Mickey appeared. "Let me grab a few things from the bathroom. Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

Mickey disappeared and Tristan sat down on the couch. He spotted the metal bolts in the wall. A place to chain a slave. His submission swirled.

Mickey came in with several bottles, a comb and scissors.

"Um, this works best if I wash your hair first."

"I usually wash it in the shower."

"Right. Um...how about you just lean over the kitchen sink and I'll wash it there?"

"Okay."

Mickey organized his bottles on the kitchen table and placed a towel along the edge of the sink.

"I'll try to be quick so your neck won't start hurting."

"Okay. Thanks."

Mickey quickly shampooed and conditioned Tristan's hair. It was thick and healthy. Tristan obviously used expensive hair products. Why on earth didn't he go to a salon for a haircut fix?

Mickey settled Tristan in a chair and went to work. Tristan closed his eyes and relaxed under Mickey's skilled hands. Mickey combed and snipped away.

"There!" He handed Tristan a mirror.

"Wow." Tristan turned his head from side to side. "Wow. Thank you. This looks so much better."

Mickey smiled a full smile. His first in months.

"Glad I could help. Why didn't you go to a salon? They could have fixed it for you."

"I didn't want to spend the money. I figured I'd just let it grow back. I've always kept it long. My master liked it that way."

Mickey glanced at his neck. "You had a master?"

Tristan looked at the floor. "Yeah. I used to."

Mickey didn't say anything.

"Hey, the guy in the pictures, is he your slave?"

Mickey felt like he'd just taken a bullet. He didn't know what to say. This was the first person he'd encountered who didn't know the story.

"Um...yes, but...he...it's complicated."

Tristan nodded. "I understand."

They both stood there. Two men with complicated lives.

"I should get going." Mickey walked Tristan to the door.

"Thanks for fixing my hair. I really appreciate it."

"Thanks for helping with the groceries."

"No problem. Bye Mickey."

"Bye Tristan."

* * *

Thanks to Kash's insistence on total bed rest, it only took Ian two days to recover from his overnight in the woods. Kash kept him chained to the bed and refused to let him leave except to use the bathroom. He had John serve all their meals in the bedroom and never left Ian's bedside. Neither spoke about what had happened and Ian didn't protest when Kash laid next to him in bed to watch movies. He also didn't try to move away when Kash wrapped his arms around him at night. Instead he bargained with himself. Sleeping close to Kash allowed his body to fully relax and his mind to take a break from the constant battle with his submission. It allowed him to rest and wake refreshed and ready to fight the next day. That was a good thing, right?

Yeah, right.

Ian knew he was kidding himself.

He was exhausted and tired of fighting his natural instincts.

His submission was starting to eat him alive. He wanted to give in, needed to give in. Feeling Kash pressed against him had pushed him to the edge, and even worse, it fueled the sexual desire simmering deep within. It had been two months since he'd had any type of sexual release. Despite the loss of his collar, he couldn't bring himself to jerk off. He didn't think jerking off would help anyway. His body had been trained not to come until given permission. He needed to be fucked, denied, and then granted release under the command of a strong master. He wanted to be bolted to the fucking table and taken for days. He wanted to be locked in his cage, fucked through the bars, butt plugged, and denied orgasm until he fell apart.

He wanted Mickey.

He really, really wanted Mickey, but his need was starting to overtake his want, pushing him closer towards the need to submit. To serve.

The inevitable wasn't far away.

Monday morning Ian was awakened by Kash pacing back and forth while yelling on the phone.

"Look, I told you...stop talking and listen to...Adrien...Adrien...Adrien! Shut up and listen! The plans clearly state that the fourth...no...no. No! You can't...dammit will you listen!"

This went on for the next ten minutes until Kash appeared to give in. He sat down heavily at his desk and rubbed his hand across his eyes and forehead.

"Fine. Tell them to set the meeting for tomorrow at 9:00 am. I'll be there."

Kash slammed his phone down on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair, exhaling "shit," under his breath.

"What's wrong?"

Kash looked up as if he'd forgotten Ian was there.

"I have to go to the city."

"What city?"

"Paris."

Kash stood up and pulled a travel bag from under the bed.

Paris?

Ian grew excited and hopeful. Would Kash take him? If he got to Paris maybe he could run away and find someone to help him contact Mickey.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"Sorry." Kash unchained him from the bed. Ian used the bathroom and quickly came back out. He noticed that Kash was only throwing toiletries and underwear in his bag, no clothes. Of course. He must have a place in Paris.

"How long will you be gone?

"A few days."

"Am I going with you?"

Kash didn't even look up. "No."

Ian panicked. "I...you can't leave me here by myself!"

"You won't be by yourself. John will be here. He'll look after you."

Ian felt desperate. He had to get Kash to take him with him. He might not get another chance. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and hoped his next words wouldn't trigger his fall.

"Please take me with you." Fuck. He didn't mean to sound so desperate and needy.

Kash looked up. Ian could sense the spike in his dominance. Kash's eyes turned dark and practically burned into Ian's.

"Why do you wanna come with me?"

Ian could feel his legs weakening. "I...I don't wanna be here without you."

Kash walked towards him, his eyes never leaving Ian's.

"You don't wanna be without me?"

"I...that's..." Ian closed his eyes as Kash reached out and gently brushed a curl from across his forehead before running his finger slowly down Ian's cheek and across his lips. Ian trembled and fought to remain standing.

"I-I've never been to Paris."

"I can't take you with me, Ian. I can't trust you."

"Yes you can."

"Prove it."

"How?"

Kash reached down and slowly unzipped his pants.

Ian's eyes grew wide and he tried to back away, but was paralyzed by the submissive desire and need swirling inside him. He was dying to have a cock in his mouth. He missed it so much. He'd sucked Mickey's cock almost everyday for six years. He missed the delicious feeling of being dominated and forced to deep throat until he choked. He missed the taste of cum squirting on to his tongue and sliding down his throat. And he'd seen Kash's cock before. He was sure it would be long, large and wide when fully erect and would probably taste like smoked honey.

"Here's the deal, gorgeous. You ask to serve me, and I'll take you with me. Prove to me that you won't try to run."

Desperation wrestled desire as Ian struggled to make a decision. Doing this would push him over the edge. He was sure of it. But not doing it could mean foregoing his one chance to get off the island. What kind of shape would he be in over the next few weeks? Or days. He was already losing the battle.

"On your knees, Ian."

Kash's voice rippled through him, forcing his body to respond.

Ian fell to his knees.

Kash closed his eyes. Shit. He might come before his cock hit Ian's lips. He ran his hands through Ian's hair and gently pulled his head back. He reached into his pants with his free hand and took out his cock.

"Say it, Ian."

Ian trembled. "Please...don't make me...I..."

"Say it, Ian. Ask for what you want. Ask for what you need because you need it don't you, Ian? Your submission needs it. You're starving, gorgeous. Feed your hunger."

Ian's mouth was watering as his submission raged.

 _Submit. Obey. Submit. Obey._

No! Mickey...Mickey is my...

 _No he's not! You don't wear his collar! Submit! Submit now!_

Kash gripped his hair tighter. "Tell me what you want?"

"I want...I want..."

There was a knock at the door. "Kash?"

Kash didn't answer, didn't move, and didn't take his eyes off Ian.

"Say it, Ian. End your starving. I'll feed you gorgeous. Just ask for it."

Ian licked his lips and swallowed. Kash's cock was so close and it had been so long...

"Kash? Are you in there?"

Kash didn't answer. His gaze into Ian's eyes intensified.

"Do what feels natural, Ian. I'll give you everything...everything. Just say the words. Tell me what..."

The door opened and John poked his head in. "Excuse me, but the helicopter will be here in three minutes."

Kash turned towards him in fury. "Get out!"

John smirked and slowly closed the door, glad he'd interrupted. Ian was okay, but he had really liked Tristan.

The brief interruption broke the spell and gave Ian a chance to breathe. He jerked his head out of Kash's grasp, stood up, and backed away until he hit the wall. He closed his eyes, turned his head and wrapped his arms around his body. It took every ounce of strength he had left.

"I'll just stay here. I'll stay here."

Kash didn't say anything. He zipped his pants, turned around, and started gathering up papers on his desk.

Ian slid down the wall to the floor. That was close. So close, intense, and exhausting that he knew his submission would be unable to survive another attack. Next time he would submit. He would be helpless to stop himself.

Kash sat down behind his desk and suppressed a smile. He had no intentions of leaving Ian behind, not when he was finally about to break. Kash's patience was about to payoff and not a moment too soon. All of his toys were at his condo in Paris. But watching Ian almost lose it and seeing him grow weaker as a result of their little power struggle was fun.

Kash stood up and pulled out another travel bag from under the bed. He threw it at Ian.

"You don't need to pack clothes, just underwear and whatever else you wanna bring."

Ian looked up. "I-I'm going with you?"

"Yeah, but hurry up. I can hear the helicopter."

* * *

Noah watched Corrine suck down one more drink. Good. Liquor would make this easier. Not that it would be hard. Corrinne may work for the Master's Ministry, but she definitely didn't follow its rules.

It hadn't been difficult for Noah to find out which Slave Recovery Center had processed Ian, but it had taken him awhile to figure out a weak link in the system. Employees of the Ministry were extremely well paid and tended to lean towards the sadistic side. They relished their positions of power and the opportunity to punish others. As a result they were not easily persuaded to break the confidentiality agreement they signed every six months. The fact that employees who broke confidence had a tendency to disappear didn't hurt either.

After weeks of tracking different employees of the Center, Noah zeroed in on Corrine. She was a master who had never claimed a slave. This immediately piqued his interest. She had to be getting it from somewhere.

After just a few days of spying on her, he learned that Corrine was definitely getting it. Preferably from a different slave each week. Or night.

Watching her pick up slaves at free club's, sleep with them and then unceremoniously turn them out the next morning, had given Noah all the ammunition he needed. He could blackmail her into giving him information, but that was too easy and the information would be limited to what she knew. Corrine was attractive. He decided to screw her instead.

Corrine asked for her bill. Noah made his move.

He sat down in the seat next to her and gave her a wide-eyed submissive look. "Hello."

Corrine glanced at him and then turned to face him. Damn. Super hot. She quickly checked his neck and glanced at his wrist. An unclaimed, hot slave. Better tread carefully. This isn't a free club. He might be looking for a claim.

"Well, hello. What's your name?"

"Artie."

"I'm Cathy."

Cathy? Okay. Fake names all around.

"Hi Cathy. Wanna buy me a drink?"

Three hours later Corrine lay knocked out across her bed, compliments of two orgasms and two slow release sleeping pills. Noah was sitting at her desk in gloved hands, hacking into the Ministry's system using her security card and way too easy to guess password of her full name and birth date.

He pulled up Ian's file and started reading. The names of the people behind the abuse allegations were not listed. Only the initials, K.J. and J.M. were listed. There was a list of everyone who was interviewed along with all their statements proclaiming Mickey's innocence. Noah frowned and shook his head. This was why he refused to work for the Ministry despite the lucrative salary they offered. They were full of shit.

He kept scrolling until he reached details of Ian's removal and recovery. Healthy when arrived, no abuse marks, only possession marks clearly made by his former master: bites, passion marks and scratches. He smiled at the description of Mickey's name scratched into Ian's back. Very badass. Finally he reached details on Ian's custody transfer. He was released to limo driver, Henry Walker for transportation to Ian's new owner...

The JacqueLeTech Corporation.

Noah sat back and stared at the screen.

The JacqueLeTech Corporation?

Ian was owned by a company?

Noah scratched his head. This didn't make sense. Didn't Quinn say Ian's mother issued a rescind order for custody? Why wasn't Ian transferred to her? How could ownership go to a corporation?

Noah decided not to ponder it further. He scribbled down all the information, left Corrine a note thanking her for a wonderful time and left. Once he was a few blocks from Corrine's, he sent a text to Quinn.

 _Need to meet._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Ian looked out over the city as the helicopter approached Paris. He was trying to figure out a plan. He probably couldn't run the moment they landed. Maybe in the morning while Kash was at his meeting? Or would Kash take him along to the meeting? He decided he would just have to be ready to run the moment an opportunity appeared.

To Ian's surprise they landed on top of a building. Once the rotor blades stopped spinning, a man stepped forward and opened the door. "Welcome home, Mr. Smythe." The man grabbed their bags while Kash helped Ian out of the helicopter. Kash held Ian's hand tightly as they boarded an elevator and rode down a few floors, stopping on the 15th. Kash took out a set of keys and unlocked the door to his condo. The man placed their bags inside and left.

The first thing that struck Ian was how different the décor was from the island house. The living room was bright and filled with light. There seemed to be windows everywhere making it feel very open. The walls were a light blue and all of the furniture was either black leather, glass, stainless steel or silver. It was very modern and stylish, but the paintings on the walls and the books on the shelves made it feel comfortable. The second thing that struck Ian was Kash's dominant scent. Unlike the island house, the condo was filled with the pure scent and essence of Kash. It flooded Ian's nostrils and wrapped itself around his body. He felt his submission jump and burn with need. Maybe wanting to come wasn't such a good idea.

Kash walked into the kitchen and peered into the empty refrigerator. He should have told Anissa to have groceries delivered, but everything happened so quickly. He hadn't planned on coming home for another three weeks. He looked at Ian thoughtfully as if trying to decide something.

"Let's change clothes and go have lunch at the club. Then we need to go to my office."

"What club?"

"Maitres. It's a private club for gay masters. The food is excellent. You'll like it."

Ian nodded. Food then escape. He followed Kash up a winding staircase to the second floor. At the top of the stairs was an open office with a desk, file cabinets and bookshelves. He followed Kash into the bedroom and froze.

It was a large bedroom decorated in light blue and silver like the main floor. There was a large bed with a blue and silver bedspread and matching pillows, but what made Ian stop in his tracks was the cage. It was silver and slightly larger than Mickey's.

Ian couldn't stop staring at it. Submission, fear, and longing all collided in his mind. He'd always loved his cage. He missed the warm, safe, owned feeling of being locked inside. Held captive. Like a slave. He missed being a true, submissive slave with a master to serve.

Kash was watching him, his cock slightly hard as he realized his dream was close to becoming a reality. How many nights had he dreamed of having Ian locked in a cage in his bedroom? And here he was, staring at the expensive cage Kash had specially ordered just for him. The moment he saw it he knew Ian would look beautiful inside. He couldn't wait to lock him up.

They were both lost in their individual thoughts around the cage until they were startled by Kash's ringing cell phone. Kash started speaking to someone in fluent French. He gestured towards the door to the closet before disappearing to his office. Ian looked inside and was once again shocked to find racks of clothes in his size. He stared at the clothes and wished Kash would just tell him what to wear. On the island he always wore shorts, jeans and t-shirts, but now they were in a stylish, international city going to a master's club. He was sure he should dress better. Mickey would expect him to dress better. He chose a pair of gray pants with a white shirt, and a black, white and gray cardigan. Black shoes, and black socks. He looked in the mirror and decided Mickey would approve. Kash suddenly appeared dressed in a casual black suit with a dark gray button down shirt. The first two buttons were undone and his hair was wild and messy creating a very sexy look. He looked Ian up and down and smiled.

"Your submissive school boy look. Always super hot. Come on."

Ian followed him downstairs. Kash grabbed his messenger bag and a pair of handcuffs. Ian's heart sank.

"Gimme your wrists."

"I'm not gonna run." At least not until I've eaten.

"Would you like to prove it?"

Ian quickly shook his head. Kash smirked and locked Ian in the handcuffs. He then attached a leash to the center of the cuffs which he wrapped around his wrist. Ian glared at him. Now how the hell was he supposed to run?

They took the elevator down to the garage and walked over to Kash's sleek black Lamborghini. Kash opened the door and helped Ian inside. He buckled him in and kissed him on the cheek before getting in on his side.

They whizzed along, whipping around too slow cars and braking for pedestrians. Kash's cell phone rang constantly, but he ignored it. Fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of a very plain looking building with large decorative double doors, but Kash didn't turn the car off. He stared at three men and a woman who were chatting right outside the club entrance. Ian looked at the group and then at Kash. Kash was frowning and he looked tense. He suddenly accelerated, pulling away from the curb and into traffic causing annoyed drivers to honk angrily.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just changed my mind. We're going somewhere else."

"Why?"

Kash didn't answer.

They drove a few miles before pulling up to a chic restaurant. Once inside, the hostess greeted Kash with kisses to both cheeks, and despite the fact that other people were clearly waiting for a table, they were immediately seated by the window. Kash connected the end of the leash to his chair and began returning missed calls. The waiter came and said something in French. Kash nodded and said something back. He looked at Ian. "Order anything you want," and immediately went back to talking on his phone. Ian opened the menu. Okay. It was all in French. He looked at Kash who was completely engrossed in his conversation. Ian sighed, closed the menu and looked around the restaurant.

It was lunch time so the restaurant was quite busy. There were many masters and slaves. Many of the slaves were dressed in tight, black leather bondage outfits that were tastefully altered for daytime wear. Some of the masters were dressed in leather too, but most were dressed normally. There were slaves sitting in chairs and others sitting on the floor beside their masters. Ian stared at the collared slaves and was surprised to feel a wave of jealousy. He wanted his collar and bracelets back. As he looked around he realized this was the first time he'd been around other people in weeks. Probably months. What day was it? What time was it? If he stood up and caused a scene, would anyone help him? Hell, would anyone understand him?

The waiter appeared to take their order. Kash stopped talking and looked at Ian expectantly. "It's all in French." Kash's face fell. "Shit. I'm sorry." He turned to the waiter and rattled off a whole lot of something Ian didn't understand. The waiter nodded and took the menus. Kash went back to his phone conversation while Ian wondered what he was about to eat.

The food arrived quickly. Authentic french toast with bacon, sausage and coffee. Kash removed the handcuffs and said something to the waiter in French. The waiter nodded and gave Ian a hard look before leaving. What the hell? Kash laughed.

"What was that all about?"

"I told him you might try to run away, and if you did there was a handsome reward available to anyone on staff who stops you."

"I'm not running away."

Kash cocked his head to the side. "Why not?"

"I don't know French." Kash laughed.

As they ate, a few people stopped by the table to say hello. Kash never introduced Ian. They all spoke French, so Ian couldn't understand what was being said, but he was sure he caught the name Tristan more than once followed by a curious glance in his direction. Every time the name was mentioned, Kash would tense up as he shook his head and said something in response.

Once they were back in the car, Ian turned to Kash.

"If Tristan wasn't your slave, why did everyone ask about him?"

Kash frowned before quickly turning it into a grin. "Why? Jealous?"

"No, just curious."

"We used to hang out a lot." Kash put on his sunglasses and pulled off. Ian stared at him. "Liar."

Kash said nothing.

From the moment they entered the tall, sleek office building, Ian could feel a shift in Kash. He grew extremely serious, intense and focused. He walked quickly, forcing Ian to hurry to keep up, and his cell phone was glued to his ear. They took the elevator to the top floor of the building and when the doors opened, a pretty woman was waiting for them.

"I'm so glad you're here. Adrien is freaking out and freaking everyone else out. He swears you're wrong about the measurements. He keeps threatening to call Louis...and your father."

"I'm not wrong and Adrien is an asshole. I came back to stop him before he fucks up this whole project."

They walked into Kash's office. Ian was starting to sense a theme. Bright, airy, lots of light, silver and blue was the color scheme of Kash's life.

Kash removed Ian's handcuffs. "Anissa, this is Ian. Ian, Anissa, my assistant." Anissa smiled at Ian. "Oh! I almost forgot." She stepped out of the office for a moment and returned with an iPad which she handed to Kash. "All set up just the way you wanted."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I had it double-checked this morning."

"Great. Thanks." Kash handed the iPad to Ian. "Here." Ian hesitantly accepted it. Really? Kash was about to say something when another man walked into the office speaking hyper, rapid French. Ian quietly went to sit down in a chair in the corner. He opened the iPad and searched the desktop for a web browser. Nothing. He tried to find a wifi connection. Nothing. Well this was worthless. Once the excited man left, Kash walked over and looked over his shoulder.

"I had it loaded with writing programs. I thought you might want to work on your music. I know you like to write lyrics and songs and stuff." Ian didn't say anything. Words didn't come to him anymore. Not since being taken away from Mickey. He was about to explain this when Kash's phone rang. Ian opened one of the programs and started typing Mickey's name over and over again. After a few minutes he felt someone watching him. He looked up and saw Anissa staring at him with a slightly amused, yet confused look. She gave him a small smile before turning her attention to Kash. They started discussing business. Ian half listened until he heard the words, New York.

"...wanted to know if you planned to keep the apartment or if you might be interested in letting it go. He's had several calls from people trying to get a place on that block. I'm sure he's going to triple the rent for the new tenants. Is Tristan still living there?"

Kash glanced at Ian and then away quickly as their eyes met.

"Tell him I want to keep it. If he has a problem, offer to pay him for the full year in advance."

"Is Tristan still there? How long is he going to stay?"

Kash gave her a cold look. She knew what it meant. Shut up.

"I'll take care of it. Have you talked to Royce?" Kash shook his head.

"He's been calling here like five times a day looking for you. Says something must be wrong with your cell phone because you haven't returned his calls."

Kash glanced at Ian who appeared to be typing away. Kash smiled, feeling proud of himself for thinking of the iPad. He shook his head. "No. I don't wanna talk to him. Tell him I'm away on business and can't be reached. I have limited cell phone reception." Anissa nodded slowly. "Is something wrong?" Or did you finally realize what a disgusting excuse for a human being he is? Kash shook his head and continued to watch Ian.

"I just don't want to see or talk to him right now."

After a few more hours at the office, Kash felt ready for his showdown the next morning. Ian had fallen asleep, curled up on the loveseat in the corner of the office. Kash knelt down and gently caressed his hair. He kissed his forehead and then gently shook him. Ian opened his eyes, but didn't immediately jump up. He lay there for a moment staring into Kash's eyes. There was a new emotion swirling within the green. Possessiveness. Kash stood up. "Come on, let's go get dinner."

They ate at a small cafe. Unlike lunch, Kash gave Ian his undivided attention. He told him about his work and made Ian laugh with made up stories about the other people in the restaurant. By the time they returned to Kash's condo, they were both tired and ready for bed. While Ian was in the bathroom, Kash set the electronic lock and alarm on the door of the condo. He took his bag upstairs and pulled out the iPad to see what Ian had written.

The name Mickey typed hundreds of times.

Anger and disappointment rolled through him. He deleted the name, wishing he was deleting the real Mickey at the same time.

He put the iPad back in his bag and watched Ian come out of the bathroom. Ian sat down on the bed and stared at the cage. Kash moved to sit behind him. He gently played with Ian's hair as he leaned forward and quietly spoke in his ear.

"Would you like me to lock you inside? I will if you want me to. Just ask."

Ian closed his eyes and exhaled. Of course he wanted to be locked inside the cage, but he wasn't about to ask. He would fight his nature until he couldn't. He shook his head and stood up. Kash stood up as well, pulled the bedspread and sheet back and climbed into bed. Ian hesitated for a moment before climbing in beside him. No chains? If Kash didn't remember, he certainly wasn't going to t remind him. Instead he pulled up the covers and allowed Kash to pull him closer, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around Ian's body. As the master aura encircled him, his body relaxed and his mind floated into a calm, restful state. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of Mickey and hoped he would forgive him this one indiscretion.

Surely Mickey would understand.

Survival.

Kash woke up the next morning in the mood for a fight. He was ready to do battle with Adrien. Adrien Bouchard hated Kash and no one could blame him. Kash had walked in the door, straight out of college, and was immediately named Vice President in Charge of Key Projects, a title that normally took at least 7-10 years to earn. Adrien felt he should have that title, and in all honesty, he was right, but he wasn't the company owner's son. The fact that Kash was actually smart, talented and doing an excellent job, pissed Adrien off further. He was always looking for mistakes in Kash's work and now he was convinced he'd found a big one. Kash couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

Ian woke up determined to get away.

Being in Kash's condo was affecting him. Kash's dominant scent, essence and energy floated through the condo and layered itself on Ian's skin, infecting him and causing his submission to burn hotter and stronger than before.

 _You need a master. He's a master. Submit to him! Why are you starving yourself?_

Ian constantly shook the thoughts from his mind, but they were becoming more insistent and unrelenting. He had to find a way to run.

Once they were dressed and Ian locked in the handcuffs, they headed straight to Kash's office. Ian was disappointed by the handcuffs and the lack of breakfast, but he didn't say anything.

There were several people waiting when they arrived. Kash immediately began giving orders and gathering things on his desk. At a quarter to nine the entire entourage headed down the hall to the conference room. Ian remained handcuffed, led by Kash. When they arrived at the room, Kash had Ian sit in a seat in the back. He attached Ian's leash to a metal bar on the wall. So much for running.

The meeting was loud and intense. Ian had no idea what was going on since everyone spoke French. He closed his eyes and tuned out. He was hungry and tired. Tired of the internal war raging inside him. He started thinking about the cage in Kash's bedroom. It would be nice to be in a cage again...

Michael Smythe quietly slipped in the room and sat down next to Ian. Ian stared at him in complete surprise. He nodded at Ian and turned his attention to his son who was speaking and pointing out things on a screen. Michael slowly nodded as Kash spoke. For once he was proud of him. Kash was articulate, clear and on point. His measurements and calculations were perfect. Perhaps it was time to fire Adrien.

The meeting ended with everyone agreeing to move forward based on Kash's work. Kash smiled smugly as Adrien stormed out of the room. Asshole. Michael waited until everyone left to approach his son. Kash glared at him. What the fuck was he doing here?

"Well done, Kash, well done. I knew you had your numbers right."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came in case you needed back up."

"You didn't trust me."

"No, no, of course I trust you. I just wanted to be here in case you needed my help. Adrien really has it out for you. I think it's time for him to go."

"No! He does good work. I don't need my father taking care of my enemies. I'm fine."

Michael Smythe nodded with a frown. "Fine." He looked at Ian.

"How's this going? I see you haven't claimed him. What are you waiting for?"

"I'll do it soon. Just waiting for him to...adjust."

Ian shook his head. "No! I don't wanna be claimed by you!"

Kash turned red as his father narrowed his eyes and stared at Ian.

"Doesn't sound like he's adjusting at all."

"He'll be fine."

"Where's my mother? Have you talked to her? I wanna go home. I wanna go back to Mickey. He's my master. I belong with him. Please? Will you tell my mom? Tell her I wanna go home. I belong to Mickey."

Michael's eyes turned cold. "Not anymore you don't. Your mother and I spoke and decided it was better for you to be with someone of your own social class. You belong to Kash now. I suggest you accept that. The sooner the better."

Michael turned to Kash. "I don't know what you're waiting for, but you need to hurry up and claim him. He clearly needs a collar. For his own good and for appropriate...appearances. Given your past indiscretions, you don't want people to get the wrong impression. I'm heading back to the states. Perhaps you'll come visit next month?" Kash was furious, but kept his voice steady. "We'll see. I need to see the project through to completion." Michael nodded. "Understood. I'll tell your mother you said hello and that you and Ian will visit as soon as you're able." Michael walked towards the door, but stopped and turned back around, his eyes on Ian. "The next time I see him, I expect him to be collared."

Kash angrily gathered his things and yanked the leash, causing Ian to stumble as he followed after him. He threw his things down on his desk and bellowed for Anissa.

"We're outta here. Everything should be fine moving forward. I'll be working from home for the rest of the week...probably longer."

Anissa nodded. "Okay. Oh, Royce called three times. He said it was important." Kash grabbed his bag and headed for the door. "I can't be reached, remember?"

That evening Kash stared at Ian with dark, lustful eyes. His dominance was rolling through him in hot waves of desire and need. His entire body was on full alert. He could sense it. Feel it. Practically smell it.

Ian was about to break.

He'd been quiet all day as he concentrated on suppressing his submission, but it had finally penetrated the mental wall he'd built, and was spreading into the submissive core of his mind. Kash could see it in his eyes. With his mind weakened, Ian's body couldn't fight anymore. The need was too strong, and he was mentally on edge. He just needed a gentle push.

Ian was curled up on the bed, away from Kash. He could feel what was happening to him and was helpless to stop it. Between Kash's presence, being in his home, the cage, and his natural need to submit, Ian was starting to drown.

And Kash was ready to hold him under.

He spoke quietly. "Do you really think he's still looking for you? It's been almost three months. He's not going to find you. I seriously doubt he's still looking...assuming he ever was." Ian said nothing. Kash scooted closer to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Ian spoke.

"You're wrong."

"About what?"

"Mickey. He is looking for me. He is. I know he is."

"Must not be looking very hard."

"He doesn't know I'm in Europe. He's probably searching Ohio."

"He's probably fucking his new slave."

Ian jumped up. "No! No, he's not! I'm his slave!"

Kash narrowed his eyes and stared into Ian's.

"Are you, Ian?"

Doubt.

Fear.

Desperation.

Need.

He'd finally reached the end.

He just needed permission to fall.

Kash stood up. His voice strong, dominant and firm, but quiet.

"Ian, he's not looking for you. Sure, maybe he tried for a while, but Mickey is a strong dominant, used to being served by his slave everyday. Do you really think he's sitting alone with no one to fulfill his needs?"

Ian shook his head, but his voice was weak. "He loves me. He claimed me. I belong to him. Me. Only me. He doesn't want anyone else."

"He didn't want anyone else. But you're gone. You're here with me. Where you belong. Where you've always belonged. And Mickey has found someone else to serve him. Stop torturing yourself, Ian. Stop starving yourself, denying your true nature. Just let go, gorgeous. You're allowed to have what you want. What you need. Submit Ian. Fall into your submission where you belong. It's your nature. It's who you are. More than most, a submissive is what you are. Submit Ian. Just submit."

Kash had slowly closed the space between them. Ian was trembling, his eyes slowly closing and opening as he grew dizzy under the powerful words of a master. Kash gently placed his hands on Ian's shoulders and began backing him towards the wall. Ian's eyes were bright and wide, full of fear and confusion, but also desperate and pleading. Kash's eyes were dark and powerful as his dominance and command flowed hot and strong, preparing to devour the sub before him.

They hit the wall.

Kash pulled Ian's hands up above his head, pinning them there. He pressed his body into Ian's.

Ian broke.

His mind exploded, shattering the wall of strength and denial he had cobbled together. The stronger, first line of mental strength built by Mickey had shattered weeks ago. Ian had been holding on through sheer will and determination.

But nature trumps nurture every time.

His submission flowed through him. He needed to serve. To be completely and fully dominated and forced to submit while at the same time, wanting to submit more than anything. Kash stepped back and Ian fell to the floor, his arms wrapped around his waist as his submission rolled and burned through him, returning to its natural level. Kash stood over him, watching, waiting, and ready.

Ian's mind raced and stumbled.

" _Your submission is to me and me alone."_

 _Mickey..._

 _No collar..._

" _I command you to refuse all others."_

 _Mickey..._

 _No collar..._

" _Never submit to another, Ian. Never."_

 _Mickey..._

" _A submissive is what you are."_

" _Fall into your submission where you belong."_

" _It's your nature. It's who you are. More than most, a submissive is what you are."_

" _Submit Ian. Just submit."_

 _Master..._

"Ian? Open your eyes, Ian. Look at me."

Ian very slowly moved to his knees and slowly lifted his head.

Ohhhhh...

Kash smiled as he stared into the eyes he remembered from high school. Gorgeous honey-amber eyes, full of obedience and fear.

The eyes of submission.

Ian's submission.

Kash laced his fingers in Ian's hair and pulled his head back. Ian's eyes were wet and his lips were slightly parted. Kash started to take his cock out, but hesitated. Not yet.

He was not a rapist.

He stared into Ian's eyes.

"Tell me what you want, Ian."

Ian glanced at Kash's crotch before lowering his eyes to the floor.

"Look at me." Ian looked up into Kash's eyes.

"All you have to do is ask. Say the words, Ian. Just say the words. You're a sub slave. The words are a part of your inner being. You want to say them. You need to say them. Stop fighting. Ask and you shall receive."

Ian couldn't break free from Kash's penetrating stare. A stare that reached deep down inside him, penetrating his submissive core, pushing him over the final cliff.

"Say it, Ian. Say it."

"I...please...please...may I...serve you?"

Kash's hand shook as he inched down his boxers and took out his twitching cock. He pressed the head to Ian's lips.

"You may serve me."

Ian's body shivered as the heavy cock hit his tongue. He sucked it down slowly and then dragged his mouth back up before beginning to suck. Strong, powerful, hungry sucks, desperate to taste cum.

Fuuuuccccckkkk.

Kash struggled not to come immediately. Ian's mouth around his cock was something he had dreamed of since high school, but this was about more than getting his cock sucked. This was about breaking Ian. He had to draw it out.

Kash summoned control over his body as he pulled Ian's head back and pushed his cock all the way down his throat. Ian struggled not to choke as his submission exploded.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

More. More. More.

Kash continued driving his cock down Ian's throat, enjoying the sounds of his choking. He shifted his angle and began fucking his mouth, pumping his hips, forcing Ian to accept every inch of him. Ian was moaning and wanting desperately for Kash's cum to fill his mouth, but Kash wasn't about to give it to him. Not yet. Not until Ian begged for it. He pulled out suddenly leaving Ian confused and starving.

"Stand up."

Ian stood up.

"On your knees." Ian fell to his knees, hands at his sides, eyes on the floor. In that moment of complete obedience, Kash's brain shifted into a new headspace of control and command.

"Stand up."

Ian stood again, his eyes wide. Hungry. Needy. Kash wrapped his arms around him and held him close. "Don't worry, gorgeous. I'll take care of you. I promise. Just focus on me." Ian stared into Kash's eyes as Kash began undressing him slowly before removing his own clothes. He placed his hands on Ian's shoulders and gently pushed him back against the wall. "You're still hungry, aren't you? Don't worry. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need. What you've been starving for."

Kash arranged Ian's body in an X against the wall. He locked a tight metal bracelet around each of Ian's wrists which he connected to a thin yet strong black rope that could either keep Ian tied to the wall, or extend and allow Ian to drop to his knees. He left Ian's feet free. He grabbed a key from his dresser and unlocked a silver cabinet. He studied his collection for a moment before choosing a thick leather hood with a mouth opening. It was appropriately named, a cock sucker hood. Kash cupped Ian's cheek.

"I know how hungry you are. How starved you are for cum, so for the next 24 hours that's all you will eat. My cum. Nothing else."

Ian's eyes grew wide. "I...I..." he faltered as Kash pressed his body hard and firm against him. Ian moaned as tiny sparks of erotic electricity danced across his skin and raced through his body. Kash pulled back and watched Ian's expression turn desperate. "Please...I...I need..." Kash smiled. "Yes, I know gorgeous. You're hungry. Time for dinner." Kash slowly pulled the hood over Ian's head. It was soft, but very tight and left Ian in a world of darkness and silence. All he could do was moan. And suck.

Kash wrapped his hands around Ian's wrists and pressed tightly into him once more. He could feel Ian's body tensing and releasing as it sucked in the feel of him. He slid his leg between Ian's and rubbed their cocks together. Ian trembled and shook as Kash pressed into him for ten minutes straight, overwhelming his body with the feel of a master. When he finally stepped back, Ian tried to lean forward, desperately pulling his bound wrists, needing to feel again. Kash waited five minutes and then flipped a switch releasing the rope, allowing him to lower Ian to his knees, but still keep him tied to the wall. Kash pressed his cock to Ian's lips and Ian sucked hungrily. Kash allowed him to suck for several minutes before pulling out and pulling Ian to standing position. He pressed their bodies together again for another ten minutes, stepped back, waited five minutes, and then slid his cock into Ian's mouth again allowing him to suck.

He did this over, and over, and over.

Ian was a mess. His master starved body couldn't get enough of the feel of Kash against him, and tasting his cock pushed everything into overdrive. Every thrust down his throat left him craving more. Needing more. Wanting more. He wanted to be used, controlled and forced to submit over and over again. He wanted to be fucked. Hard. Brutal. His ass completely destroyed. All in service to a master.

Kash managed to hold off for an hour before exploding in Ian's mouth. He pressed his hands against the wall to keep from toppling over as he screamed from the powerful, hot rush. Just as Ian was finally being fed, so was Kash. His need to dominate Ian had burned within him for months. Some days it had been so bad that he had seriously thought about just taking him, but he'd wanted Ian in the purest state possible. As close to the Ian he fell for in high school. And he wanted Ian to want him. To need him.

He allowed Ian to softly suck and lick at his cock for a few minutes. Ian wanted every drop of cum he could catch. He was desperate for the feel and taste. How long would he have to wait for more?

Kash finally pulled Ian to his feet, pushed him back against the wall, and changed the restraints to chains. He chained both his wrists and ankles to the wall, and then placed a locking bar across his neck, waist and thighs. Ian was locked to the wall and still wearing the hood. Kash eyed Ian's cock. He decided to allow it to remain free, but he hung a small weight from his balls. Ian's body convulsed from the waves of sexual submission racing through him. Kash wrapped his hand around Ian's cock and began to stroke. He knew Ian was on the edge, but needed permission to come. Kash cruelly stroked him until Ian was shaking with the need to explode. He released his cock and whispered in his ear.

"You may not come."

Ian screamed.

"Please! Please...I need...I can't..."

"You will not come, Ian."

Kash placed a gag in Ian's mouth and laid down on his bed. He set his alarm for an hour and a half, and fell asleep staring at hooded, weighted, gagged, bound Ian.

The most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Ian relaxed into the tight bondage. Every nerve in his body was awake and pulsing. It all felt so punishing, and yet so good. So, so, fucking good. He really wanted to come, but was grateful for the torture of not being allowed to. His balls ached from both the need to come and from the weight. He drifted in and out of consciousness, always grateful to find himself still trapped when he woke up.

Ninety minutes later, Kash woke up. He rolled over and ran his eyes up and down Ian's bound body. He loved the way he looked and thought about leaving him there for the rest of the night, but he wanted Ian's breakdown complete by morning. He climbed out of bed and stood in front of him. He reached out and took Ian's cock in his hand. Ian's breathing sped up as little moans and cries escaped him. Kash kneeled in front of him and took his cock in his mouth. Ian groaned and gasped from the wonderful pleasure coursing through his cock, but he knew it would be followed by the cruel denial of his orgasm. An orgasm he needed to have so badly, but loved being denied.

Kash sucked Ian's cock until he could feel the quivering inside his groin. He pulled off and stood up.

"You may not come. Only I get to come. In your mouth."

He left the hood on, but removed the gag and unchained him from the wall. Ian immediately fell to his hands and knees from a mixture of exhaustion and submission.

"Crawl to the cage, Ian."

Finally.

Kash guided him as Ian obediently crawled to the cage. Kash unlocked the door.

"In."

Ian crawled inside. Kash closed the door and locked it.

"Go to sleep."

Ian lay down on the mattress and was asleep in seconds.

Kash smiled.

Perfect.

Ian woke up several hours later still encased in complete silence and darkness. His mouth tasted musty and salty, but his body felt wonderful. For the first time in months there was no throbbing ache and burning inside his submissive core. There was no dull pain in his head and he didn't have that achy, longing feeling. There was still a hunger to be dominated, but not the starving feeling of the past weeks.

He reached out and touched the bars of the cage. It felt wonderful to be locked in a cage. So soothing and settling. He sat up and wondered if Mickey was in bed.

No...wait...

Not Mickey. Kash.

He pushed the thought out of his head. He didn't want to think about it.

"Well good morning, sleepy slave."

Kash unlocked the cage and Ian crawled out. Kash hooked a leash to the D-ring on the back of the hood and led Ian to the bathroom. He helped him stand and aim correctly. He fixed his toothbrush and allowed him to brush his teeth. He then led him to the middle of the bedroom. He took out his cock and pressed it to Ian's lips.

"Serve me."

Ian obediently sucked, gratefully swallowing the cum that poured from Kash's cock. Kash patted him on the head. "Remember my promise to you. 24 hours of cum. Nothing else. Today you are a cum slut. Of course, you probably always are."

Over the course of the next several hours, Kash made good on his promise. Ian sucked cock all day. Almost every hour, on the hour. When it was time for him to work, Kash made Ian kneel under his desk with his head in Kash's lap. When he was ready he would reach down and press his cock to Ian's lips. Ian obediently sucked and swallowed.

By late afternoon, Ian's mouth was tired and his jaw was aching. Kash placed him in his cage for a nap, leaving the hood on. While Ian slept, Kash prepared to solidify Ian's return to complete and total submission.

Two hours later Kash woke Ian, pulled him out of the cage, and backed him into the wall. He pressed his body into Ian's and listened to his broken, erotic moans as the feel of Kash flooded him. After several minutes he pulled Ian away from the wall and made him stand up straight, legs wide apart. Kash took out a parachute chain ball weight. First he snapped the tight, metal ring around Ian's balls. Four chains hung from the ring creating a parachute look, thus the name. He carefully hung a weight from each chain. Ian shook and shuttered as each weight was added. He groaned and almost fell when Kash slid a tight metal cock ring down his hard and twitching cock.

"Remain standing, gorgeous."

Kash turned Ian around and walked him towards the wall, face first. He chained his wrists and ankles to the wall, and added a spreader bar for good measure. He then removed the hood.

Ian blinked several times as his adjusted to the dim light. He stared at the wall in front of him. Why was he facing the wall?

His eyes grew wide and his blood raced faster in his veins when he heard the crack of a whip. Kash smiled evilly as he saw Ian shake with fear.

"No! Please! Please, Kash!"

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I've been trained by the best." Kash raised his arm and grinned wickedly. "I'm gonna whip the shit out of you, Ian. Punishment for making me wait so fucking long to have you."

The whip cut across Ian's back.

Ian screamed.

The whip came down again.

Ian screamed, but this time something shifted.

The whip hit again.

Ian screamed, but was it in pain or pleasure?

Again.

And again.

And again.

Ian's screams filled the condo, but they were the result of a strange, twisted pleasure that electrified Ian's body with every strike. There was pain, but each hit made his body shake, swinging the weights that hung from his balls, sending erotic cues and pulses through his cock. And then there was the fact that he was chained to the wall, his legs spread apart by the bar. He was unable to move. Unable to run. Unable to stop or control what was happening to him.

He was a slave.

A completely, dominated and tortured slave at the mercy of the strong master that wielded the whip.

Kash loved Ian's screams and cries. His cock grew harder and drove him to strike harder. As Ian screamed, Kash's mind spiraled out of control. _Punish him. Punish him for denying you. For telling your parents that he didn't want you. For choosing bitch ass Milkovich over you. Punish him for making you wait...for making you question...for making you send Tristan away. He deserves this. Break his submissive ass_ _and show him who his master really is._

After another minute Kash dropped the whip and stepped back. He was sweating and breathing hard. Ian's back was covered in dark red lashes, but no blood. Kash was relieved. The training he and Royce took had just paid off. He walked over to Ian and stood behind him. Ian was shaking as tears rolled down his cheeks from both the intense pain and indescribable pleasure, plus the agonizing need to come. Kash carefully removed the spreader bar and the ball weights. He released Ian's ankles and then slowly released his arms, making sure he was leaning against the wall so he wouldn't fall. He stood behind him and carefully reached around to remove the cock ring. He whispered in his ear. "Come for me, Ian."

Ian's yell was deep and guttural as shot after shot of thick cum burst from his cock, splattering the wall and floor. His body seemed to vibrate. Every time Kash thought he was done, another thick load would erupt from Ian's cock.

Finally Ian sagged in Kash's arms, his body wrecked and exhausted. Kash carefully maneuvered him to the bed and laid him on his stomach. He opened the nightstand and took out an ointment to apply to the deep cuts on Ian's back. He carefully laid down next to him. Ian's eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep yet. Just overwhelmed by what he'd experienced.

Kash caressed his cheek and whispered to him.

"You are so beautiful, Ian. Your submission is amazing. I knew it would be. It's why I never stopped wanting you. And now that I have you, gorgeous...

I'll never let you go."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Monica looked out over the lake as she sat waiting in her favorite Michigan restaurant. She'd only agreed to meet Karen, Lip's slave, out of respect for Lip. She didn't mind Karen. She thought she was attractive, and lovely, and came from a wonderful New England family. She just regarded her the same way she regarded all slaves. Not worth her time or attention. But she really didn't mind Karen. She was secretly hoping that Karen was about to announce she was pregnant, but Monica knew that was impossible. And her own fault. It's hard to have sex when your master is in Siberia.

She smiled as Karen walked towards the table. She stood up and gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek.

"You look lovely, dear. How are you?"

Karen's eyes were as cold and hard as her voice. "Horrible. I want you to let Lipcome home."

Monica smiled with an icy sweetness. "Darling, you understand Lip's responsibilities. He's working on a very important..."

"That's crap and you know it. I don't know what's going on, but you sent him away and I want him back home. Now!"

Monica raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Well now. Aren't you all bold and brave for a slave? I suggest you lower your voice and adjust your tone."

"And I suggest you call my master and tell him to come home immediately."

"I don't respond to demands. I make them."

Karen sat back and slowly smiled. "Fine. Then I'll demand a meeting with Derek Mandel and see if he's interested in this." Karen reached in her purse and pulled out a set of papers. She tossed them in front of Monica. Monica picked them up and began scanning the pages. She gasped and shot Karen an evil look.

"How the fuck did you get this? This is confidential Ramken Industries property!"

"I may be a slave, but I'm not an idiot. I know how to use a computer."

"You stole this off of Lip's computer! How dare you! You sneaky little bitch!"

Karen smiled. "Whatever. Send Liphome or else I'm giving this to Derrek. He and my father are good friends. I guarantee you he'll take my call."

Monica was quiet for a moment before shaking her head and smirking. "We hold the patents for these plans. He can't copy our processes."

"Really, Monica? Do you think he'll send out a press release when he incorporates the process changes in his plants? How long do you think it will take him to make the changes? Six months? A year? Let's say a year. That gives you 12 months to figure out a way to stay ahead of the competition you're about to have. Gee. I really hope you don't lose money or market share."

Karen stood up. Monica glared at her. "Sit down." Karen sat down with a smug smile.

Monica hated to admit it, but she was impressed with Karen's little stunt. Impressed and beaten. It didn't matter. It had been three months. Things were settled. Lipcould be angry, but there wasn't anything he could do. It was a done deal.

"Fine. I'll order Lipback home. He should be done with his work anyway."

Karen rolled her eyes. "What work? Freezing his ass off on some insane expedition in Siberia? I don't know why you felt the need to send Lipaway, but let's not pretend it was for work."

Monica cocked her head to the side and smiled. "Stay and have lunch with me. We really should get to know each other better."

"As long as you bring Liphome."

Monica took out her phone. "Consider it done."

* * *

Mickey waited patiently for Tristan to finish his shift. He enjoyed sitting on the bench, watching people walk by. That was something he loved about New York. People were always on the move. Going somewhere, doing something. Busy. People were always busy.

That's all he was doing.

Staying busy until Ian came home.

At least that's what he told himself as he ignored the tiny voice in the back of his head and the buzzing within his dominance.

Mickey was sure it was pure coincidence that he always shopped on the days Tristan was working. And it wasn't his fault that Tristan's shift always ended the same time he was done shopping.

And there was nothing wrong with the two of them grabbing a bite to eat afterward. They both had to eat, so why not eat together?

And meeting for coffee was perfectly acceptable. Mickey needed someone to vent to about the craziness with the show and his struggles with Brad. Plus now the producers were giving Kevin a hard time. He had to talk to someone.

And having Tristan come over for dinner and then practice lines with him was a necessity. There was no one else to do it. Just like he'd predicted, everyone had returned to their own busy lives.

Busy.

Yes, he was just staying busy.

Two lonely men who each needed a friend.

That's all they were. Friends.

Masters and slaves can be friends, right?

Even if one was a strong dominant, who hadn't been served in three months and whose dominance was growing hungrier and needier everyday. Especially when he looked at his incredibly beautiful new friend who was a sub slave, alone and unclaimed. Wishing for a strong, dominant master to take care of him until he figured out a way back to the master he loved.

Yes. They could be friends.

Until they couldn't.

"What happened to your slave?"

Mickey sighed sadly as his eyes filled with tears. That was a great question. What had happened to his slave?

Tristan reached over and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I was just wondering."

It was Saturday morning and they were sitting in a small, brand new coffee shop that had opened several blocks away from where either of them lived. Mickey told himself that they did not go there to avoid running into anyone he knew. The place just had good coffee.

Mickey shook his head. "No...it's...I'm sorry. I just...I wish I knew the answer. I don't know where he is. He was taken from me...by the ministry. A rescind order."

Tristan's eyes widened. He couldn't imagine Mickey doing something so heinous that the ministry would take his slave. Mickey shook his head and spoke quickly.

"I swear I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't. He...Ian...his mother never liked me. Actually she never met me. It...the whole thing was kind of crazy from the beginning, but I loved...love him and he loves me, and my dad talked to her and she gave him to me, but then...I guess she changed her mind or something and decided to take him back."

Mickey stopped. Talking about it hurt.

Tristan nodded and continued to hold his hand. "So...you don't know where he is?"

"No. I thought he was with her, but he's not. We think she gave him to someone as part of a business deal. My dad's been trying to find him and I've started the appeals process through the Ministry, but it's a joke. The paperwork alone is designed to discourage you from even trying, but I'm doing it. I want him back."

Tristan nodded. He understood wanting someone back.

"What about you? Why did your master release you?"

It was Tristan's turn to blink back tears. He shook his head. "I honestly don't know. We were happy. At least I thought we were happy. My master...he was...is a complicated man. He made mistakes in his past, and he had all these...demons inside him that he couldn't shake. He's smart, sexy, attractive, talented, and wealthy, but he always questioned his worth. Something always made him doubt himself. I never understood it."

Tristan smiled a shy, sexy smile. "I think it's one of the reasons why he claimed me. In college I was the slave everyone wanted. I was one of the few unclaimed slaves on campus. Masters were always after me, but I had made up my mind to wait for the perfect guy. It wasn't easy. I couldn't wait to submit to someone, but it had to be the right someone. Then one day I met Kash. He took one look at me and that was it. Flowers, dinners, gifts, trips. He was amazing. A perfect gentleman. I fell for him immediately, and it was wonderful. Our life together was wonderful. And then one day...for no reason...it was over."

Mickey gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Tristan. He had to have a good reason. Maybe he was trying to protect you from something."

Tristan shook his head. "I would have gone through hell with him, and for him. I still would. I love him more than anything, and I miss him. I miss him so much."

The two sat there.

Missing the men they loved.

* * *

Quinn tried not to stare at the way Noah's shirt fit tight and snug across his chest. _This is business, not high school. Focus._ Quinn straightened up and slipped into her business tone as Noah slid into the seat across from her.

"I'd appreciate it if you would try to arrive on time. I'm a busy woman."

Noah slid off his sunglasses and sat back, throwing his arm across the back of the seat. The shirt pulled tight, accentuating his muscular chest.

"Who ya being busy with?"

Quinn shifted her gaze from his chest to his eyes. "None of your business. What do you have for me?"

"The JacqueLeTech Corporation."

"What?"

"The JacqueLeTech Corporation. Apparently that's the outfit that owns Ian, or at least that's what someone wants us to think."

"I've never heard of it. Where is it located?"

"I'm not sure it really exists. I googled it and nothing comes up."

"You googled it? Really? I could have done that. Aren't you supposed to be investigating?"

"Keep your panties on...or don't. I also had some friends in the Commerce Department and the IRS do some checking. The company's not registered in any state and there's no record of income taxes, stock, nothing. But JacqueLeTech sounds French and Monica Gallagher is in the middle of a huge expansion into Europe. It's gotta be related."

"But even a French company would come up on Google, wouldn't it?"

"That's why I don't think it's a legitimate company. It's either completely made up, or a shell corporation under the umbrella of a larger company. Regardless, if it really exists I think it's in France."

Quinn frowned. "But...why would she give Ian to a corporation? Wait a minute! Ian was taken under a rescind order! Doesn't that mean the slave has to go directly to the parents first?"

Noah nodded. "Yep. For some reason she pulled strings so the transfer would go directly to this JacqueLeTech outfit. The ministry doesn't like to do that, especially under a rescind order."

Puck paused to glance around the restaurant. He leaned in closer towards Quinn.

"I did some research on Monica Gallagher. She's a major control freak. Relinquishing control of Ian that quickly makes me think she needed him for something major. Something important enough that she was willing to have the transfer go straight to a company instead of her. The most important thing in her world right now is the expansion into Europe. I'm sure her decision to take Ian is related to it."

"But why? What could be so important that she would do something so cruel and heartless to her son? How could Ian possibly help with the expansion?"

"Money."

"Money?"

"Money. Experience has taught me that it always comes down to money, especially for the rich. I did some research on the expansion. Ramken Industries is one of the largest, and most successful privately held companies in the United States. Everyone's hoping Monica will take the company public one day. The initial stock offering would be incredible. A few months ago there was an article about the decision to expand into Europe. Rumors were swirling that she didn't have enough cash on hand to finance the move. Analysts were speculating that maybe she would finally take the company public to raise the necessary cash, but she didn't. My guess is that she never will. The whole control freak thing. Anyway, there was all this talk about her need for money and then all of a sudden, bam. She's in Europe. Where'd she get the money?"

Quinn shook her head. "But she's loaded and well diversified over several businesses. She has cash and plenty of it."

"The rich never use their own money, plus she's a greedy bitch. She wouldn't invest that much of her personal wealth, even in her own company. Expansions are risky, even for highly successful businesses like Ramken. No, I'm sure she got the cash in an nontraditional way, and I think Ian was a part of the deal."

Quinn sat back and tried to process everything as she stared at Noah. She always knew he was smarter than everyone gave him credit for. She was impressed. "Okay, so now what?"

"I need to talk to Mickey."

Quinn shook her head. "Frank wants him to stay out of this. The Ministry sent him a letter for harassing Monica Gallagher. He doesn't want Mickey involved."

"Well I need to talk to him. I need to find out what he knows. Chances are he knows something, but doesn't realize it. I need to figure out who's behind this JacqueLeTech Corporation, or if it even exists. I could go to France, but I wouldn't know where to start. I'd guess Paris, but who knows. Mickey may know something that can point me in the right direction."

Quinn nodded. "Okay. Let me contact Mickey first and tell him what's going on. He doesn't know about you. I'll smooth things with Frank."

"Cool." Puck sat back and focused a hard stare on Quinn. "Now, I have another case to discuss with you."

"What case?"

"The case of the hot congressional aide and the sexy bad boy."

* * *

Two days later Mickey sat anxiously on a park bench waiting for Noah. He was initially thrilled when Quinn called to tell him they'd hired an investigator to look for Ian. His enthusiasm cooled when he learned who it was.

"Are you kidding me? Seriously?"

"Come on, Mickey. Be nice and be grateful. A normal investigator wouldn't touch a case like this. Everything we're doing is illegal. If the ministry finds out, we're all going to jail."

"Wait! My dad could get in trouble?"

"We've been careful. He's only met Noah once. Everything goes through me. If anything happens, he can claim I acted alone."

"No one's going to believe that! You work for him! I'm his son! Ian is his son's slave!"

"That why we have to be careful and be grateful it's Noah. That's also why you have to stay out of this. I'm letting him meet with you this one time because he really needs to, but after that you have to promise me that you won't try to get involved. Just keep working on the appeal stuff."

Despite being on the phone, Mickey rolled his eyes. "A colossal waste of time and energy, not to mention impossible to complete. I'm on a section that wants me to provide copies of Ian's elementary school transcripts. Not high school. Elementary. Now how would a master, whose slave was taken away by the slave's parents, have access to that and what the hell does that have to do with giving Ian back to me?"

"I know, Mickey. I know, but you have to look like you're going through all the normal channels." Quinn was quiet for a moment before carefully continuing. "Mickey...it's not going to be easy to get Ian back. Even when we find him...finding him doesn't mean we can take him."

Mickey closed his eyes. "Let's just find him first."

x-x-x-x

Noah sauntered towards Mickey and plopped down next to him.

"Looking for some action?"

Mickey made a face. "If I was, I guarantee you I would choose a higher class of park."

Noah grinned. "Still a porcelain princess, I see."

"And you're still a criminal." Mickey smiled. "I'm glad about that."

Noah nodded. "Alright, I don't want you out here too long, so let's get to it. What can you tell me about Ian's family?"

Mickey shook his head. "Not much. I've never met his parents. His brother, Lipis sorta nice. He's a master and his mother's favorite. He and Ian aren't super close, but he tries. We used to hear from him occasionally and then all communication just stopped."

"When was that?"

"I don't know. A few months before they started investigating me."

Noah nodded. "Okay. Was Ian ever involved in the business?"

"Never."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Lipruns some business in Michigan. Ian is a slave so Monica never considered him worthy of learning the family business. Not that Ian was interested."

Noah was quiet. Thinking. Mickey watched him with interest, wondering if he and Quinn were rekindling anything.

"Did Ian ever mention his parent's business associates or partners?"

"No. I don't think he ever knew any. Well...there's the K's, but I think they were just family friends. I don't know if they did business together."

"The K's?"

Mickey made a face. "Wealthy, old money. I don't know what kind of business they're in. They have a son named Kash who wanted to claim Ian back in high school, but Monica gave him to me."

Noah's eyes narrowed to small slits. "Really? Why? Not that you didn't deserve him, but if they were family friends..."

Mickey shifted a bit. He was grateful to his dad, but he hated telling others about the deal Frank made with Monica. Not that she kept her end of the bargain. "My dad talked Monica into it. You know. Help with government stuff."

"Where's this Kash now?"

"I have no idea. Last I heard he's in France somewhere with his slave."

Noah slowly nodded, but said nothing. He took out a list.

"These are all the people the ministry interrogated about you and Ian. Do you know all of them?"

Mickey read the list and nodded. "Yes."

"Okay. I got a question about this one, Chris Jenkins. He owns the studio Ian used to work at, right?" Mickey nodded.

"Okay. So, he owns the studio, but did he actually work directly with Ian?"

"No. Ian always worked with this kid named Kaden. Kaden James."

Noah sat back.

KJ – Kaden James.

Bingo.

Mickey looked at him. "What?"

Noah glanced at him. He didn't want to say too much. He couldn't have Mickey getting any ideas and trying to interfere.

"Nothing. Just interesting that the ministry would interview the owner of the studio and not the person who saw Ian everyday."

"Because the ministry's full of shit."

Noah nodded and laughed. "I agree. Is Kaden a master or a slave?"

"A slave."

"Does he have a master?"

"Not back then, but now I don't know. Before Ian left he met someone. Some guy named Jake."

"Jake what?"

Mickey shook his head. "I don't know. I never met him. We were all supposed to get together, but it never worked out and then Ian... well..."

Noah nodded. "Yeah. Listen Mickey, what do you plan to do after I find Ian? You do realize that you can't just go get him."

Mickey didn't say anything.

"Mickey?"

"Mickey?"

Mickey closed his eyes. His voice was a whisper. "I know. I know I can't...I just have to know he's okay. I need to know where he is and that he's okay."

Noah stared at him hard. "And you're not going to go get him? You're going to just be happy knowing where he is?"

Mickey looked into Noah's eyes and nodded.

Noah shook his head. He could read the lie in Mickey's eyes.

"Bullshit."

Mickey said nothing.

* * *

Ian opened his eyes. He was lying naked and alone on the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbows. His jaw, throat and back were sore. He closed his eyes and tried to think.

Oh. Right. Of course his jaw, throat and back were sore.

He'd sucked cock all day and been whipped all night.

He slowly pushed himself up to his knees and climbed out of bed. He walked over to the mirror and turned so his back was facing it. He peered over his shoulder.

Wow.

His back looked like Seth's. He stared for several minutes. Was it wrong that he thought the lashes were beautiful?

"Good morning, sleepy slave."

Ian jumped and backed away, his eyes full of fear. Kash smiled. High school Ian.

"Calm down. It's just me. It's okay. You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

He walked over and kissed Ian on the forehead. "Turn around, let me see."

Ian turned around so Kash could inspect his back. Kash lightly touched one of the cuts causing Ian to flinch. Kash lightly wrapped his arm around Ian's waist and pulled him closer, careful not to bring Ian's back flush to his chest. He leaned in and spoke quietly in Ian's ear.

"Had you ever been whipped before?" Ian shook his head. "Did you enjoy it?"

Guilt punched Ian's chest. Yes. Yes, he enjoyed it. God did he enjoy it. It had been one of the most sexually intense experiences he'd ever had, and Mickey had put him through plenty. Now he understood why Seth loved it so much, but he felt guilty for enjoying something Kash had done to him.

"Answer me, Ian. Did you enjoy it? Tell me the truth."

"Y-yes."

Kash smiled and nodded. "I knew you would. I also knew it would help you return to your true self."

Kash moved to sit down on the bed. He studied Ian for a moment. Ian looked like a frightened animal. Kash kept his voice soft and coaxing.

"Come here. Kneel in front of me."

Ian slowly walked towards him and dropped to his knees in front of him. Kash ran his hand through his curls and then held his face in both of his hands.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Everything's fine, gorgeous. You're back to normal. Isn't that great? You're back to how you should be. Your authentic self. The way you were before he started screwing around with your brain and experimenting on you. You're okay now and I promise, I'll take care of you."

Ian didn't say anything so Kash continued.

"Listen, I was thinking that maybe we'll stay in Paris for a while. Would you like that? I'll tell John to come so we'll have someone to cook and clean and stuff. He has his own place down the hall. He'll just be here during the day to take care of us. Okay?"

Ian slowly nodded.

Kash smiled at him. "This is gonna be fun. I promise. I'll show you all the cool stuff in Paris and we can go visit other parts of Europe too. Okay? Would you like that?"

Ian slowly nodded.

Kash smiled. "Great. Okay. Um...you probably need a shower. I'll turn on the water and make it just warm enough. I don't want you to hurt your back. And then I'll take you to get something to eat. You must be starving. I can't remember when you last ate. "

Kash stood up and pulled Ian to his feet. He headed towards the bathroom while Ian stood there.

"Kash?"

"Yes?"

"When can I go home to Mickey?"

Kash felt like he'd been punched in the chest. "What did you say?"

Ian slowly backed away from him. "Wh-when c-can I go home to Mickey?"

Kash slowly walked towards him, his eyes burning with quiet rage. Ian kept backing up until he hit the wall. He could feel Kash's anger.

"You're home is with me now, Ian. Me. You need to forget Mickey and focus on your new master. Me!"

Ian was trembling, but he managed to swallow several times and find his voice.

"Are...are you going to claim me?"

The question caught Kash off guard. He wasn't ready to claim him. Not yet.

"There's no rush. Especially since you seem to be having problems adjusting to your new responsibility. Let's work on that. On your knees."

Ian immediately fell to the floor. Kash pulled down his boxers. "Serve me." Ian leaned forward and took the cock in his mouth, obediently licking and sucking until Kash came hard and strong. Ian pulled off feeling dizzy. When had he last eaten?

Kash took a few moments to savor his orgasm before pulling Ian to his feet. "Go take a shower and then I'll feed you."

As he showered, Ian wondered if another slave had served Mickey that morning. He pushed the thought from his head. By the time he stepped out of the shower, the warmth in the bathroom combined with his lack of food made him dizzier than before. He leaned against the bathroom wall to keep from falling. Slaves needed to be regularly fed and they needed routine. Kash was providing neither. Ian slowly made his way into the bedroom. Kash wasn't there. Ian sighed and chose his own clothes. By the time he went downstairs, the dizzy feeling had morphed into a sick feeling. Kash looked at him and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Just hungry."

"You look like eating might make you sick."

Ian shook his head. Ohhh, that was a mistake. Now his head hurt. "No...I just...I need to eat."

"Okay. Come on."

Once they were inside the car, Kash turned to Ian and stared into his eyes, burning him with dominance and command.

"You will stay right with me. You will not run. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

As they ate breakfast, it dawned on Kash that he should have food in the house, so they went grocery shopping. Ian watched with amused confusion as Kash threw things in the basket. He couldn't figure out what Kash thought he could cook with the stuff he was buying. Ian hoped John was on his way to Paris.

When they got back to the condo, Kash allowed Ian to take a nap in the cage. Ian was grateful to be locked inside. He felt safe and protected inside. Even from Kash. As he drifted off to sleep, two thoughts wandered through his mind.

Who was Mickey fucking?

When was Kash going to fuck him?

* * *

"Come on up." Mickey hit the door buzzer, opened the door to his apartment, and hurried back to the kitchen. A minute later Tristan walked in carrying a bouquet of gerber daisies. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Hi! I was worried the sauce would burn. What's with the flowers?"

"Oh, I walked past the florist on the way here. They were so pretty that I bought them. I figured you could sit them on the table."

"That was sweet of you. Thanks. Here, stir the sauce while I get a vase."

Saturday night dinner at Mickey's.

It was becoming a thing they did.

Friends having dinner on a Saturday night.

Mickey filled a beautiful crystal vase with water and arranged the flowers. He set them in the middle of the table.

"They're beautiful. Thanks Tristan."

"No problem."

They stared at each other for a moment before Mickey quickly turned towards the stove and Tristan moved towards the cabinet for plates to set the table.

Ignoring the attraction swirling between them was also a thing they did.

Mickey didn't think it was real attraction. After all, he was in love with Ian, and Tristan was in love with his former master. It was just his biological need to dominate. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't getting to him. It had been months since he'd been served by his beautiful Ian. His mind and body were wired to crave the submission of a slave. Three months was a long time, especially after having it everyday for six years. Mickey's dominance was starving.

And it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Especially since he was spending more and more time hanging out with Tristan.

Tristan who was incredibly beautiful and had a sweet sexiness to him that made Mickey think of Ian. His hair had grown back, adding to his beauty. His submission was attractive as well. It was strong and obedient like Ian's.

And then there was the way Tristan looked at him.

Wide-eyed, wanting and willing. Like he was just waiting for Mickey to command him.

Begging him to command him.

Tristan was just as hungry as Mickey. All Mickey had to do was say the word.

And Mickey felt like commanding him.

But he held back.

Control.

Discipline.

Denial.

Tristan giggled at Mickey's stories over dinner. He loved the sound of Mickey's voice, and the way his eyes danced when he was excited. He loved the way his dominance felt. Strong and demanding, but loving. He loved how blue his eyes were and how pink his mouth was.

Tristan was falling in love with Mickey.

Once dinner was over, things turned tense and awkward. Mickey could feel Tristan's submission, which caused his dominance to rise. This in turn increased Tristan's submission, and round and round the dangerous cycle went until Tristan looked like he might drop to his knees at any moment.

Mickey's cock hardened. Tristan really was beautiful...and available...and willing...so very willing.

Mickey jumped up. "You should go."

Tristan nodded and headed towards the door. Mickey followed him. Tristan suddenly turned around, his eyes pleading.

"Please...it's been so long and...I don't know how much longer I can stand it. I don't wanna go to the free clubs. I don't want that, and...I already had a really bad experience and...please? I just...I want...I need to submit and I trust you."

Mickey swallowed. He felt just as desperate.

"I can't, Tristan. I still love my slave."

"And I still love my master."

Mickey shook his head. "I don't wanna rape you and I can't claim you. I want Ian back."

"I know that. It isn't rape because I know that. I'm not expecting you to claim me. I just...please...please, Mickey?"

His desperation burned hotter with each passing minute. He took a bold move and stepped closer to Mickey. Mickey knew he should push him back...

But he didn't.

"Please...please Mickey...put me out of my misery...and yours. Please...let me...let me serve you."

The magic words.

Mickey grabbed both sides of Tristan's head and crashed his mouth against his. Tristan opened his mouth and sucked in Mickey's tongue. Mickey moaned and grabbed Tristan's shoulders. He spun them around, pressing Tristan against the wall, and then pressed his body into his.

Fireworks.

Tiny explosions erupted up and down Tristan's spine as Mickey's pent up sexual energy and need to dominate exploded.

Tristan heard the zipper. He sank to his knees and opened his mouth. Mickey's hands were trembling as he slid his cock into Tristan's mouth. Tristan devoured the cock so fast and so hard that Mickey had to press his hands against the wall to keep from falling. Tristan sucked hard, fast and greedily. He was starving for the taste of cum on his tongue. Mickey was lost in a haze of sexual pleasure, dominance and need. He just stood still and allowed Tristan to work. Tristan tried to communicate his gratefulness with every stroke of his tongue and suck of his mouth.

As Mickey felt the familiar twist, slide and lurch of his orgasm, he grabbed Tristan's long black hair and wrapped it around his hand, jerking his head back. As Mickey came down his throat, Tristan came with a muffled scream around the cock in his mouth.

After a minute of groaning and gasping, Mickey pulled out of Tristan's mouth, threw himself against the wall and slid down to the floor. He covered his face with his hands and started sobbing.

Guilt and shame.

Guilt for cheating on Ian, despite the circumstances, and shame for using a slave.

Tristan reached over and pulled his hands from his face.

"Please don't. Don't regret it. It was wonderful. I enjoyed it. I needed it, and so did you."

"That doesn't make it right!"

"How is it wrong? We both wanted it! We needed it!"

"But...I have a slave!"

Tristan shook his head sadly. "No, you don't, Mickey. Just like I don't have a master. We're both alone. I know you can't claim me, and I don't want you to, but there's no reason why we should suffer in our loneliness. We can help each other."

Tristan scooted closer to him and took his hand. "Let me help you, Mickey. Please? Let's help each other."

That night Mickey lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.

He'd broken down and allowed a slave to serve him. A slave he didn't plan to claim. A slave that wasn't Ian.

It took him three months to reach this point and he was a master.

How long had it taken Ian?

It went without saying that Ian was serving someone. Submitting to someone. How long did he last before his submission took over? What were they doing to him? What was he being commanded to do?

Mickey rolled over and held Margaret Thatcher dog against his chest.

"It's okay. It's okay, Ian. I don't care who you've submitted to or what you've had to do. I understand, and I don't care. I just want you back. I want you home."

* * *

Kaden pressed send on his final email of the day and closed down his computer. He sat there in silence.

He didn't really want to go home.

It had been five months.

He'd ruined the life of one of the few people in the world who had shown him nothing but kindness, love and concern.

He'd done it to prove his loyalty. His love.

And yet it had been five months.

Jake was never going to claim him.

 _Serves me right. I don't deserve to be claimed. Not after the lies I told. Not after what I did to Ian._

He grabbed his bag, turned out the light and left. He walked outside into the evening air and looked around. Jake didn't even bother to come get him anymore. He sighed and turned to walk home.

"Evening Kaden."

Kaden turned around. There was a man standing there. He had on a leather jacket, black jeans and a white t-shirt.

"Um, hi. Do I know you?"

"Nope, but we have a friend in common."

"Who?"

"Ian Gallagher."

Kaden shook his head. "I...I haven't seen Ian for a while. He...um..."

Noah quickly walked towards him and grabbed his arm. "Cut the crap. I know exactly what you did you little shit, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't your idea. Take me to your leader."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Mickey rolled over and glanced at the clock. 10:00 am on a Saturday morning. He rolled back over and threw his arm over Tristan. Tristan automatically scooted closer towards him. Mickey ran his fingers up and down Tristan's back before tangling them in his thick, black hair. He pulled gently. Tristan immediately opened his eyes, pushed himself up to his knees and stretched his arms straight up into the air. He looked down at Mickey and smiled as he moved over between Mickey's legs. He pulled down Mickey's boxers and lovingly kissed the head of his cock before swallowing it completely. He sucked until Mickey arched his hips, pushing himself further into Tristan's mouth as he came with a quiet moan. Tristan happily swallowed before lying back down. Mickey lay in the dreamy warmth of his orgasm for a few minutes before climbing on top of Tristan. He kissed him deeply, tangled their legs together and pressed down, evoking a long, deep, soulful moan from Tristan. Mickey lay on top of him, pressing his body into Tristan's for 20 minutes.

It was their new thing.

Two friends helping each other.

Mickey made it clear he would not have sex with Tristan. He couldn't. He'd only ever slept with Ian and he wanted to keep it that way.

Tristan tread cautiously. "You do realize that chances are...Ian's ...he's having..." Mickey quickly cut him off.

"I know. I know and I don't care. It's different. Ian's a slave and he's...unique in his submission. You've never met him. His submission is stronger than most slaves. It's very powerful. Whatever is happening to him is just that. It's happening to him. He can't control what he's being ordered to do, and he can't refuse. But I'm a master. I can control what I do. At least I'm going to try."

So they reached an agreement. Tristan would serve Mickey, which in turn served Tristan's need to be dominated, and Mickey would feed Tristan's need to feel a master by pressing their bodies together. Tristan could also spend the night. Tristan really wanted Mickey to screw the hell out of him, but he was willing to take what he could get. It was enough to keep him away from the free clubs and it eased some of his longing for Kash. At least for now.

Mickey lived with a heart full of guilt, but he needed Tristan. His need to dominate had been burning him alive, in addition to his constant heartache over Ian. Tristan kept him fulfilled and satisfied enough to focus on the final rehearsals for the show, and kept him from crying himself to sleep at night. He was sure Ian would understand.

Survival.

He also hated feeling like he was sneaking around behind everyone's back, which of course he was. No one knew about Tristan. He never talked about him and he certainly didn't plan to introduce him to anyone, but Chandler and Kevin weren't blind. They both had a feeling Mickey was fooling around with someone, but neither said a word to anyone else and didn't dare ask Mickey.

Kevin felt guilty for being happy because it wasn't solely about Mickey. Whoever Mickey was fooling around with was keeping him relaxed and loose for the show. Before, his dominant hunger and need was making him tense, irritable and for the first time in his career, unfocused. Kevin was glad to have his male lead back on track.

Chandler was also glad. He knew Seth would consider it a complete and total betrayal of Ian, but he was thrilled to see Mickey move on. Chandler didn't believe Ian would ever come home and he hated to see Mickey hang on to false hope. It was healthier for Mickey to move on and move forward.

K&T&K&T

Sunday afternoon Tristan was lounging on the couch while Mickey baked cookies. Tristan sighed happily as he snuggled under a blanket and inhaled Mickey's scent. He loved the thick essence of Mickey that floated through the apartment and wrapped around him. He loved being there. He was the happiest he'd been in months.

As he looked around the living room, his eyes landed on the slightly open door to the Broadway room. He'd never been inside that room. He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Hey, what's in that small room off the living room?"

Mickey stopped stirring. "Ian and I call it the Broadway room. His piano is in there along with sheet music, scripts from shows I've been in, books...just stuff."

"Is it okay if I look?"

"Sure. Hey, should I put in chocolate chips or walnuts?"

"How about both?"

Mickey smiled. Ian would have wanted both. "Okay."

Tristan stood inside the entrance of the room and looked around. There were playbills and posters on the wall, stacks of sheet music on the piano, and several bookshelves of books. He picked up a few sheets of music and noticed the signature, _Ian A._ at the bottom. He studied the bookshelves. Books of plays, books on performance, books about writing. He lazily scanned the shelves until his eyes landed on something familiar. He looked a little closer and read the title on the book spine.

Dalton Academy – Class of 2012

Dalton Academy?

Tristan slowly pulled the yearbook off the shelf.

He'd seen this book before.

He flipped it open.

No way.

It couldn't be.

There had to be more than one Dalton Academy in the world.

He flipped to the first page of the senior section.

A – Ian Victor Gallagher.

He kept turning pages to the H section and quickly scanned the photos.

Mickey Milkovich.

He flipped to the S section. Please no. Please, please, please...

Kash Alexander K.

Tristan clamped his hand over his mouth.

He flipped back to the A section and stared at the picture of Ian.

Kash had never told Tristan the name of the slave who rejected him in high school. He only talked about him when he was drunk. Tristan stared at the picture and tried to remember one night at a villa in Tuscany...

" _We should get out of this hot tub. You're drunk and you're going to drown."_

" _That's what I have you for. You take care of me. My boooteeeeefulllll slave. My...kistan...dristan...Tristan."_

 _Tristan laughed. "You are so drunk. Come on, let's get out."_

" _No! No! Let's stay. I like it in here. Don't deny me, Tristan. You're my slave. No denying me."_

" _Okay. We'll stay a little longer."_

" _Good. I knew you wouldn't deny me. You never deny me. You're so sweet, and beautiful, and obedient, and you don't deny me. Ever. Not like him. He denied me. Asshole. Curly haired, submissive as fuck, asshole. As if something was wrong with me. Nothing's wrong with me!"_

" _Of course nothing's wrong with you. You're perfect, Kash. My perfect, wonderful master."_

 _Kash nodded. "That's right, dammit. I'm fucking perfect. Perfect as fuck. Fuck him. Fuck his curly hair, and his stupid singing and fuck that stupid, skinny ass, gay fuck face...cart."_

" _Cart? What cart?"_

" _No, no, no, no. Das not right. Not cart. Card...curl...yeah, curl...no, wait...um...my head hurts."_

" _Okay. That's enough. Let's get out, master. You need to sleep."_

" _Um kay. Sleep. Yeah."_

Cart.

Mickey.

Tristan closed the book, placed it back on the shelf and slowly backed away, as if that would reverse what he'd just learned.

They knew each other. They all went to high school together.

Ian was the one that got away. The slave Kash had never gotten over.

Was it possible...

No. It couldn't be. It couldn't.

Could it?

Tristan went to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face. What should he do? Should he tell Mickey? Okay, so they all went to high school together. So what? That was a long time ago. It didn't mean anything. Just because Ian was missing, and Kash used to want him, didn't mean Kash had him. No. It was all a coincidence. They all just happened to go to high school together. That's all.

But should he tell Mickey?

Mickey was waiting on the couch. "It should only take the cookies about 20 minutes to bake. Do you want to wait or start the movie now?"

Tristan stared at Mickey. Beautiful, strong, dominant, but gentle, Mickey.

He needed Mickey.

He wanted Mickey.

Mickey looked at him with concern. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Tristan walked to the couch and snuggled up next to him.

"No. Let's watch the movie."

* * *

Ian yawned and rested his head against Kash's leg. They were watching TV. French TV. Ian had no idea what anyone was saying, but Kash seemed to be enjoying it. Kash was sitting on the couch while Ian sat between his legs on the floor. Kash was playing with Ian's hair. It had grown really long and messy, but when Ian mentioned getting a haircut, Kash told him he liked it long and gel free.

John walked in. "Will there be anything else sir?"

"Nah. We're good."

"I'll retire for the evening then."

"Cool."

"Any requests for breakfast?"

Kash shrugged. Ian spoke up. "Waffles."

John nodded. "Very well. Good night."

Ian smiled gratefully. He was so happy to have John back. Meals were somewhat regular again.

About 20 minutes passed when there was a knock at the door. Kash tensed slightly. Who would be knocking? Guests had to come through the doorman downstairs and John had his own key. It shouldn't be his parents...

He stood up and walked to the door. "Oui?"

"Finally! Open the door you prick!"

Royce.

Ian was surprised by the flash of fear that filled Kash's eyes.

"Just a sec." He turned to Ian and hissed. "Upstairs, now! Get out of sight!"

Ian hesitated. Why did he have to hide? Was this someone who could help him get home to Mickey?

"Why do I have to hide?"

"Go upstairs and stay out of sight. Now!"

Kash's tone and the fear in his eyes made him move. He quickly climbed the stairs but he didn't go hide. He remained just hidden out of sight at the top of the stairs so he could see and hear.

Kash opened the door, walked to the couch and plopped down with a bored expression. Royce walked in, slamming the door behind him.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

Ian stared at Royce. He was really attractive, but something about him made Ian nervous. He also looked vaguely familiar.

"I've been busy."

"Busy my ass. Where is he?" Royce started looking around.

"Where is who?"

"The slave you're fucking. Apparently very, very thoroughly and well since you haven't been in the office, or answered your phone in months. I was sure I'd hear from you when you got your invite to the Black & Red, and then I ran into Damian the other day and he tells me you haven't even RSVP'd!"

"I'm not fucking anyone."

"Bullshit, you liar! Don't think I didn't see you speed off the other day outside of Maitres, and I'm sure there was someone in the car with you." Royce walked into the kitchen and started calling out, "Come out slave boy! I know you're here!" Kash glanced towards the stairs and hoped Ian was well hidden. Royce came out of the kitchen and headed towards the stairs. Ian scurried into the bedroom and into the closet. He crouched down into a little ball in the corner behind the coats. Kash jumped up and followed Royce upstairs.

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"I know you have a slave here somewhere. Why are you hiding him?"

Because I remember how you used to look at Tristan. "I don't have a slave."

Royce walked into the bedroom and looked around. He stared at the cage and at the chains on the wall. He peered in the bathroom and glanced in the closet. Kash looked around nervously. Where was Ian?

Satisfied, Royce went back downstairs and fixed himself a drink at the small bar in the corner. He sat down in a chair and put his feet up on the glass table. Kash said nothing while Royce studied him closely. Ian quietly returned to his spot on the stairs.

"Alright, so what gives? What's wrong with you? You've been gone all summer, you don't return my calls, you haven't been in your office, and you don't RSVP for the hottest end of summer party that we never, ever miss. What's going on?"

"Nothing's wrong with me and nothing's going on. I've just been busy. Unlike you, I actually have a job, and responsibilities, and a father who expects me to behave. Not all of us get to just fuck around all damn day."

Royce laughed and got up to fix another drink. "Fine. I take it back. You obviously haven't been laid in awhile. You're all tense and shit. But never fear. The Black & Red is this weekend. I told Damian we'd be there."

Kash shook his head. "I'm not going this year."

Royce looked like he'd been shot. "What?"

"I'm not going this year. I don't wanna go."

Royce downed his drink and started fixing another. "Kash, we have never, ever missed the Black & Red. It's the party of the year. I still don't know where Damian finds those slaves, and believe me, I've searched. It's like they all turn into pumpkins at the end of the night. Given your current state you definitely need to attend this party."

Kash slowly shook his head. "Don't you ever get tired?"

"Tired of what?"

"Tired of bouncing from slave to slave. It gets old after awhile."

Royce narrowed his eyes as an evil smile spread across his face.

"Missing Tristan, are we?"

Kash scowled. "No."

Royce stood up to fix yet another drink. Ian frowned. How many was that?

"Well that's good...especially since he's moved on."

Kash's eyes widened. "What?"

Royce smiled over the top of his drink glass and thought for a moment. Should he spill the beans now or wait? He'd noticed the two sets of shoes in Kash's bedroom. Kash was definitely hiding his latest fuck toy. Perhaps it was best to keep his fling with Tristan under wraps until he got a glimpse of Kash's latest acquisition.

"I'm just saying that in all likelihood Tristan's moved on by now. I'm sure some master has claimed that fine, caramel brown ass of his. He really is one of the most beautiful creatures walking the face of the earth. Slaves like him don't go unclaimed for long. I'm sure he found another master quick, fast and in a hurry."

Kash's expression was a mixture of fear and anger. Ian could feel his tension.

"You don't know that."

Royce grinned. He loved twisting Kash up. "No, I don't, but it's been...what? Five or six months? And Tristan is really beautiful. I'm sure someone's fucking him. Hard. Everyday. His mouth and his ass."

"Shut up!"

Royce laughed maniacally. "Don't be mad at me. You're the one that got rid of the best thing to ever happen to your sorry ass."

Kash's body language and expression changed instantly. He relaxed and suddenly looked proud. "Not true."

"Oh? Really? I thought you didn't have another slave? I'd love to see who you have that's better than Tristan." Royce waited, hoping Kash would take the bait.

He didn't.

"I don't have another slave." Kash walked over to the bar to fix his own drink while Royce returned to his seat in front of the glass table. He put his feet up again and looked around. Maybe the slave was locked up at John's.

"Fine. Whatever. What about the Black & Red? We never miss it."

Kash just shook his head. "Hey, how did you get in here?"

Royce downed the rest of his drink, stood up and smiled. "I'll never tell."

He walked towards the door. "Next time I'm in New York I'll tell Tristan you said hello."

Royce slipped out before Kash could say anything. Kash sat there staring at the closed door, his mind racing with worrisome thoughts until he noticed Ian standing at the bottom of the steps.

"Where did you hide?"

"In the back of the closet."

Several minutes of silence passed while Kash was lost in his own thoughts. When he finally looked back at Ian, his eyes were slightly glazed. A trickle of nervous fear and excitement slithered through Ian. It had been a week since Kash had whipped him. He made Ian suck his cock everyday, sometimes several times a day, but that was all. Ian hated that his submission was hungry for more.

Kash's dominance rose slowly and wrapped itself around Ian, pulling and tugging at his submission. Ian closed his eyes and gave in to the strong, smooth feeling. He couldn't have fought it off if he wanted to.

"Go upstairs and take off your clothes" Ian immediately turned and climbed the stairs.

Kash fixed another drink and downed it. Royce's visit had left him on edge.

Was it really possible that someone had claimed Tristan?

He shook the thought from his head and made another drink. As he finished it he felt the warm beginnings of a buzz.

He locked the door, set the alarm, turned off all the lights, removed his clothes and went upstairs. Ian was waiting, naked, on his knees in the middle of the room. So fucking perfect. Who needs Tristan when you have this? A perfect, gorgeous, completely submissive slave at your total mercy.

"Get up on the bed. Lie on your back."

Ian obediently climbed up on the bed. His heart was racing. He closed his eyes. _Just pretend it's Mickey_.

Kash chained Ian's wrists to the headboard before climbing on top of him. He pressed his body down hard and firm. Ian's entire body moaned as Kash's essence flooded his mind and invaded his entire body. Kash whispered to him.

"Tonight I'm going to tease and torture you, gorgeous. Would you like that?"

Ian could only moan in response.

Kash began sucking his neck, leaving dark red passion marks. He kissed his way down Ian's chest before bending Ian's legs so his feet were flat on the bed and far apart. He inspected Ian's hole for a moment before gently brushing one finger against it. Ian jumped and bucked his hips. "Remain still, gorgeous. We're just getting started."

Ian gasped as Kash began softly licking and swiping at his asshole with his tongue. He darted in and flicked out for a few minutes before gently pressing his finger inside. Ian cried out.

"Lube!"

Kash froze. Shit. Ian wasn't claimed by him. No self lubrication. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube. He squirted some right in Ian's hole and coated his fingers before starting again.

Ian groaned as Kash pushed in one finger, then another, and then one more. When he started working in a fourth, Ian screamed, but Kash didn't stop. Ian needed to be loose for what he had in mind.

Kash took his time twisting, turning and pushing his fingers into Ian's ass. Ian was rolling his head back and forth and breathing hard. Kash noticed how hard Ian's cock was. Poor boy had only been allowed one release over a week ago.

"If you're a good boy, Ian, I might let you come." Kash leaned down and swallowed Ian's cock before slowly dragging off. Ian begged. "Please...please..."

"Not yet, sweet boy. I have something else in store for you."

Kash removed his fingers and rolled off the bed. Ian could hear him moving around and then he felt cool iron around his ankles as his legs were spread further apart and then locked in place with a spreader bar.

"Let's see how much you can take for me."

Ian took a deep breath and stared at Kash, his eyes wide and willing. Kash stared back with a crushing intensity. "You may beg for mercy, but there's no guarantee I'll grant it."

Kash held up a very large vibrating dildo. Like everything in Kash's life, it was silver. Ian's mind dissolved into a mixture of need, submission and unwanted desire. He couldn't help but want it because his submission needed it, but he felt he should try to fight what was happening to him. The thought lasted for only a moment before his submission took over completely.

Kash smiled as he watched the swirling confusion in Ian's eyes dissolve into submissive resignation. He grabbed the bottle of lube and covered the dildo before positioning it at Ian's hole. He stared into his eyes.

"You will take it, Ian. All of it. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes."

Kash slowly slid the dildo into Ian's ass. Ian wailed as his ass eagerly swallowed it, grateful to finally feel full. Kash slid it in and out a few times before pushing it all the way in and leaving it. He then lay on his side next to Ian with the vibration controller in his hand. Ian's eyes were closed and his breathing was interspersed with tiny moans, gasps and cries as his ass clinched around the dildo. Kash clicked on the vibration and set it at 3. Ian's eyes flew open as his ass flooded with strong, throbbing pulses. Kash allowed him a moment to adjust before increasing it to 5. Then 8. Then 10. Ian was groaning loudly and pulling the chains.

"Look at me, Ian."

Ian stared into his eyes and Kash switched it to 15. Ian's body jerked as he screamed. Kash locked in the vibration at 15 and laid the controller aside.

"Can you take it Ian? Can you take what your master wants you to take, or do you need mercy?"

Ian's eyes were wide and obedient. His submission would never disappoint a master.

"N-no mercy!"

"Good boy. Let's see how long you last."

Kash moved down and took Ian's cock in his mouth. He sucked until Ian was screaming, rocking and straining desperately in his chains, his need to come throbbing urgently inside him. Kash pulled off, released Ian's ankles from the spreader bar, unchained him and helped him off the bed. He moved him to the wall, chained him up and began whipping him while the dildo vibrated inside him.

Ian exploded, his cum splattering the wall and dripping to the floor. Kash whipped him through his orgasm, making it ten times more intense and explosive. Ian came several times before passing out. Kash quickly released him from the wall, removed the dildo, and gently laid him on the bed. He carefully rubbed ointment on his back before settling them under the covers, careful to keep Ian's back uncovered. Kash laid on his back and positioned Ian so his head was resting on his chest. He laced his fingers in Ian's hair and softly kissed the top of his head.

"You're such a good boy, Ian. So beautiful and obedient, but I'm tired of waiting for you to get over him. You need to hurry up and get over him once and for all. Forget him and only think of me. I'm going to claim you soon, Ian. Very soon, so you need to forget him. Forget you ever met him."

* * *

Kaden was glad Noah had shown up. The guilt and loneliness was killing him. He wanted out of his relationship with Jake, but found it hard to leave. He'd be alone again, plus leaving would force him to admit that he'd lied and betrayed Ian for nothing. He was happy to spill his guts.

"We only met the guy one time. He was really weird. Very, very pale with greasy black hair. I never knew his name. He said all we had to do was call the ministry and tell them we...I thought Ian was being abused by his master."

"What kind of abuse?"

"That Mickey wasn't feeding him. That he hit him...and that he...he forced him to have sex with other masters." Kaden turned red as memories of his time with Mario flooded his brain. Noah studied his eyes. Kaden's eyes were too old for his young age. He'd obviously been through a lot which made him an easy target. Noah's anger softened a bit.

"So, do you think Jake was really interested in you, or was he using you from jump?"

Confusion followed by disappointment covered Kaden's face. "I never...I...oh..." Kaden's already broken heart, shattered further.

Noah shook his head. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Jake Malley.

When they arrived at the apartment Noah told Kaden to go in first and leave the door unlocked.

"Jake? I'm home."

Jake walked out of the bedroom. "Well obviously you're home. No need to yell. What took you so long? I'm hungry."

"I had stuff to finish. I'll go start dinner." Kaden disappeared into the kitchen. Jake sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote.

"There's really nothing good on Tuesday nights."

Jake yelled and jumped up from the couch. "Hey! Who are you? Get out of here!"

"Not until you tell me what I need to know."

Jake started backing away from Noah while screaming. "Kaden! Kaden!" Kaden walked out of the kitchen and lounged against the doorway. "What?"

Jake looked at him like he was crazy. "Call the police! Do something!"

"I already did something! I did the worst possible thing I could ever do! You made me betray my friend! Ian was my friend, and now he's in trouble because of you! You made me tell those lies about Mickey! You made me! You promised you would claim me, and it was all lies! Lies! Lies! Lies!"

Jake was red and furious. "Shut up! Shut up you stupid little..."

Noah grabbed his arm and slammed him into the wall.

"Enough! Tell me who put you up to lying about Mickey."

Jake looked defiant. "Fuck you! I'm not telling you shit!"

Noah shrugged. "Okay." He punched Jake in the stomach. Jake tried to hit back, but Noah was too quick, too strong, and way too experienced. He punched Jake in the jaw, sending him spinning to the floor. He yanked him up and punched him again before slamming him into the wall.

"Like I said, there's nothing good on TV tonight, so I have absolutely nothing else to do but beat the shit out of you until you tell me who paid you to lie about Mickey." Noah punched Jake twice more before letting him collapse to the floor. He kicked him in his side causing Jake to make a strange, muffled screaming noise. Noah stood over him and waited. Jake struggled to breathe and coughed up a little blood. He rolled over and scrambled back to the wall.

"Okay...okay."

"I'm listening."

"Dawson. Name was Dawson. Said he worked for some rich guy who would pay big bucks if we told the ministry Mickey beat his slave."

"A guy? Are you sure it was a guy? Not a woman?"

"Said guy. All we had to do was say Ian was abused. Call the ministry, make the report. That was it."

"How much did he pay you?"

Jake glanced at Kaden. "$250,000."

Noah narrowed his eyes and looked at Jake for a moment before kicking him in the stomach. Jake screamed.

"How much were you really paid?"

It took Jake a moment of coughing and gasping to finally croak it out. "$5...$500,000." Kaden's eyes grew huge.

"$500,000? You...you told me $250,000!" Noah shook his head.

"No one would take a chance on lying to the ministry for less than half a mil. You get caught and they lock you up for years. This Dawson have a first name or last name?"

Jake shook his head. "All I ever knew was Dawson."

"When did he approach you?"

Jake looked at Kaden. "It was right after I met Kaden. I guess he'd been watching him and Ian and was planning to approach Kaden when I entered the picture." Jake looked at Kaden sadly. "I really did like you. I still like you...but then...the money. I started thinking about what I could do with all that money and...it messed up my head. I'm sorry, Kaden."

Kaden's eyes filled with hope. "Really?"

Noah looked at him and rolled his eyes. "You're seriously gonna fall for that?"

"I mean it! Kaden, I really mean it! Can't we...can't we just...start over?"

Kaden looked at the floor. "I don't think so. You made me lie. You made me hurt my friend. Ian was a good friend." Kaden shook his head. "You're not good for me. I think you should get out."

"Kaden...please?" Kaden shook his head as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Noah focused on Jake. "Where's the money?"

"In a special account Dawson set up. Said it wouldn't be noticed by the IRS." Noah nodded. He had one too. Several actually. All in Beth's name except for one. The first one he opened was in Quinn's name.

"Gimme the account number." Noah punched the number into his phone. "The money will be gone by morning." Jake groaned. Noah grabbed a magazine off the table and took out a pen. He scribbled down his number. "This is my cell number. If he doesn't leave within the hour, or if he ever bothers you again, just call me and I'll finish him off."

Kaden nodded. Noah turned to leave. "Wait! Um...can you tell Ian...and Mickey...tell them I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please?"

Noah nodded and left.

Time to find Dawson.

* * *

Ian opened his eyes. Once again he was naked and alone. He crawled out of bed and looked at his back. Now he was covered in old scars and new ones. He wished he could call Seth to tell him about being whipped.

He sat down on the bed. He was tired of waking up alone. And of having no routine. And of meals being whenever Kash decided he was hungry. He missed Seth. He missed working on the musical, and lazy Saturday mornings in bed, and Mickey torturing the hell out of him and then covering him with kisses and cuddles. And his purr spot. God he missed Mickey massaging his purr spot.

Ian blinked back his tears. He felt so trapped...and alone...and forgotten.

He missed his collar and bracelets.

He missed being a full and complete slave. He missed having a real master. He missed being properly cared for.

He missed Mickey.

But...

Maybe Kash was right.

It had been months.

 _He's not looking for you. He's moved on. He has a new slave. You need a new master. I'm your new master._

Ian shook his head and quietly whispered. "No."

"Yes."

Ian jumped up and spun around. Kash was standing in the door way, his eyes a darker than normal green. He stared into Ian's eyes. Ian trembled as he felt the heavy weight of Kash's dominance covering him. Somehow Kash knew what he'd been thinking.

"He doesn't want you anymore. If he did, he would have come for you by now."

Ian's eyes filled with tears. "He...he just...he's..."

"He's busy." Kash held up a New York Times. It was an ad for Mickey's show.

"He's busy preparing to open on Broadway. He's not searching for you. He's learning his lines, screwing his new slave, and getting ready for opening night."

Tears rolled down Ian's cheeks. Kash threw the paper on the floor, pulled Ian into his arms and held him tightly. Ian started to cry harder.

"Shhh. It's okay, gorgeous. I'll take care of you. I promise."

 _But I don't want you. I want Mickey._

Kash slowly backed him towards the wall.

"Just relax, gorgeous. Just relax."

Kash pressed into him and was surprised by the strong pull of Ian's submission. Why was Ian still so starved? Kash pressed harder, concentrating on Ian's quiet pleas and cries. He sounded so needy. Kash pulled back causing Ian to whine involuntarily. He didn't want to want Kash, but he couldn't help it. His submission loved what Kash did to him.

"Down Ian." Ian fell to his knees.

Kash walked over to his silver cabinet and took out a cherry wood box. He sat down on the bed and opened it. Ian's eyes grew huge.

A cock cage.

A beautiful shiny silver cock cage. It looked tight and punishing.

Ian looked at Kash. What was he thinking? He couldn't possibly be planning to put that on him. Being Mickey's slave meant Ian knew all the state rules. Especially around cock cages. Back in high school he asked Mickey to put one on him...

" _Please? No one has to know. It would be a way to be closer to you when you're not with me."_

 _Mickey's eyes lashed with hot desire. Of course he wanted to put Ian in a cock cage. He'd spent an embarrassing amount of time online browsing various websites, choosing the items he planned to purchase for Ian. He knew exactly what type of cock cage he wanted to lock him in, but there were rules and he was already breaking a few minor ones. He wasn't about to start on the major ones. Plus, if anyone found out..._

 _Mickey slid his hand between Ian's legs and gently rubbed his cock through his clothes. Ian groaned. "I'd love to lock you in a cage, Ian, but there are rules my love. A master cannot lock a slave in a cock cage until he has claimed him. We have to wait."_

"Come here, Ian."

"Y-you...you can't unless...are...are you claiming me tonight?"

Kash laughed. "I can do anything I want. Haven't you realized by now that I don't play by the rules? Come here."

Ian obediently crawled over. "Stand." Ian stood up and closed his eyes as Kash locked his cock in the tight cage. Ohhh...it had been so long. Too long. Ian collapsed under the strong force of being so dominated and controlled. His submission swallowed him completely. Kash took a deep breath and started stroking his own cock. Watching Ian fall apart was too much. Damn he wanted to fuck him.

No. Not yet.

It was the one thing he wanted to save for after Ian's claiming. No sex until Ian was claimed as his. He stroked himself harder.

"Go get in your cage."

Ian crawled into the cage. Kash stopped stroking long enough to lock the door. He then jerked himself to a strong orgasm.

Ian lay in his cage, his mind further melting into a confused mess.

He wasn't claimed.

He didn't have a collar.

But his cock was locked in a cage.

Ian's chest felt tight. Who was his master? Who owned him?

Mickey?

 _No. You're not wearing his collar._

Ian turned to look at Kash who was lying on the bed, relaxing in his post orgasmic state.

Kash?

 _You're wearing his cage._

Ian closed his eyes.

Kash...

Master...

* * *

It only took Noah a day and a half to confirm that Dawson was who he thought he was. Noah had heard the name before.

Along with all the warnings.

Dawson was one of those people that others were quick to underestimate. He wasn't much to look at. Short, small, pale, greasy, flat black hair with little black, beady eyes. He looked creepy, but harmless.

That's what made him so dangerous.

Dawson was smart, quick and fearless. He was trustworthy and well connected. His outward appearance was a carefully crafted disguise. People never saw him coming.

Noah wasn't sure how to approach him. There was no way Dawson would just give up his client. He would have to force it out of him, but he didn't have much time. There was a strong possibility that Jake would call Dawson to warn him. Noah had to act fast.

He was also confused. Jake had said Dawson was working for a guy. What guy? He'd been sure Monica was behind the abuse allegations, but now he was thrown off. It was possible Dawson lied to better hide his client, but if it really was a guy, who? Noah's mind immediately went to Lip. The fact that Lip had disappeared made Noah suspicious. Maybe Lip needed his little brother out of the way. But why?

Noah decided he would have to take Dawson on face to face. It was dangerous, but he didn't feel like he had a choice. He didn't have time to find another angle. He made a few inquiries and found out what bar Dawson liked to frequent. A place called The Righteous Room.

Friday evening around 7:00 pm, Noah sat at the bar and waited. Dawson slithered in around 8:30 pm. He sat down and ordered an apple martini. Noah smirked to himself. An apple martini? Really? He was waiting for Dawson to get halfway through his drink before moving to sit by him, but Dawson suddenly stood up and came over to sit down by Noah.

Shit. Not good.

Noah pretended to be fascinated by the baseball game on TV.

"So, how's Beth?"

Noah whipped around. "What?"

Dawson's eyes were filled with an evil smugness. "How's Beth? Your daughter? How's she doing?"

Noah was never shocked or thrown off his game.

Until now.

Dawson grinned, knowing his preemptive strike had worked.

"Kids grow up so fast these days. She's what? Seven? It'd be a shame if she didn't make it to eight because her daddy got involved in things that don't concern him. I suggest you back the fuck off before both you and Beth have a terrible accident."

Noah managed to get it together.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I suggest you back the fuck off."

Dawson kept grinning. "Pretend all you want, but let me be clear. You come after me, you'll lose. Have a nice night."

Dawson threw some money on the bar and walked out. Noah waited five minutes before walking out. He took out his phone as he quickly walked down the street. Dawson lived a few blocks away.

"Quinn?"

"Noah?"

"Yeah. Listen, I can't talk. I need you to call Shelby and tell her to take a little vacation somewhere with Beth."

"What? Why?"

"Didn't I say I can't talk? Just call Shelby and tell her to disappear with Beth for a couple of days. It's just a precaution."

"What's going on? Does this have to do with Ian? Have you found him?"

"Quinn! For fucks sake, stop asking me shit and call Shelby! I'll call you later!" He hung up.

Noah cut through an alley and came up on the back side of Dawson's building. It was an old brick building of large but cheap apartments. Noah easily slipped into a basement window.

Too easily.

He looked around the basement and almost missed the huge man quietly creeping up behind him. He ducked just in time and managed to get in a few quick punches before having the hell knocked out of him. He slammed into the wall and hit the floor. It took him a few seconds to get his mind back. The hulking man stood over him, smiling. Noah looked up, smiled back and promptly kicked straight up, smashing the guys privates. The guy wailed and stumbled back, Noah jumped up and threw punch after punch until he finally knocked him out. Noah leaned against the wall, breathing hard and in throbbing pain.

Fuck.

He gave himself a few minutes to recover and think before climbing the stairs. He was filled with rage fueled adrenaline. How dare this asshole threaten his daughter? He had to remain calm and clear-headed if he was going to stay alive and get what he needed. He checked for the knife he always carried and tonight, the 9 millimeter handgun tucked in his pants. He took a few deep breaths and headed up the stairs.

Dawson was apartment 5D. Noah cautiously walked down the hall and knocked on the door. Dawson opened it with a look of mild surprise.

"You don't listen very well. Is the kid not yours?"

Noah was back on his game. "Actually, I've always had my doubts. Her mother was screwing my best friend. Never had a DNA test, so who knows."

Dawson frowned a little. Noah kept going. "How about we chat?"

"You chat. I listen. You leave." Dawson stepped aside.

Noah looked around the apartment taking note of the three closed doors off the living room. Someone else was definitely there. Noah turned to Dawson. The sooner he was out of here, the better.

"I just need a name. One name and I'm gone. Plus, I'll owe you."

"I won't need favors if word gets out that I can't keep my mouth shut about my clients. I can't help you."

"I'm not leaving without the name."

"Then I guess you're not leaving." Dawson walked over to an iPod dock and turned on music. A signal. Noah scanned the doors of the room. Dawson flopped down on the couch and crossed his legs. He looked Noah up and down. "You have amazing balls coming here. I could use someone like you. I could make you rich. You'd have money to send your sweet little girl to college."

The mention of Beth rattled him. He forced his mind to stay focused.

"Like I said, she might not be mine. I'm not too worried about her future. I'm also not looking for a job. Just a name."

"That's too bad. Oh, well. The good thing about guys like you is that when you disappear, no one notices. Or cares."

Noah turned, gun drawn just as a large man stepped out of the bedroom aiming at him. Noah shot first, hitting him in the chest. Dawson jumped from the couch and started running towards one of the closed doors. Shit. He couldn't shoot him. He needed him alive to get the name. Noah ran after him. Dawson suddenly turned and lunged towards him wielding a knife. He managed to slice Noah's arm. His thick leather jacket provided enough protection that while it still hurt like hell, it didn't go deep. Noah jumped back, dropping his gun. The guy he shot groaned loudly.

"Just tell me the fucking name and you can probably save your boy's life before he bleeds to death!"

"Fuck him and fuck you! You can both die tonight!"

Dawson lunged again. Noah jumped back, stumbling into a table. He fell giving Dawson the opportunity to try and stab him, but Noah brought his knee up, punching Dawson's chest. Noah grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife and the two struggled. Noah had the height and weight advantage, but Dawson was strong. The two rolled over and over before Noah managed to pin Dawson down. He punched him twice square in the face, breaking his nose, sending blood everywhere, but Dawson still held firm to the knife. Noah continued squeezing his wrist, trying to force him to release it when Dawson suddenly brought his head up, crashing them forehead to forehead. It hurt like hell and made Noah dizzy giving Dawson just enough seconds to wriggle free. He jumped up and scanned the floor for Noah's gun. Noah jumped up and pulled out his own knife. The two started circling each other slowly.

"Just give me the fucking name!"

"Not happening!"

They continued walking in a slow circle until Dawson spotted the gun. He ran for it. Noah lunged, slamming him to the floor. He sat on Dawson's back, grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He held the knife to his neck.

"The name!"

Dawson laughed. "You won't kill me. You need me!"

Noah pulled his hair harder, forcing his head back painfully. He pressed the knife into his skin.

"You overestimate my concern for my client. I don't appreciate assholes threatening my daughter. I'm happy to kill you just to erase the threat." He pushed the tip of the knife into Dawson's skin, drawing blood. Dawson swallowed. Would he really kill him? His information said no. Noah wasn't known as a killer. More of a smart badass. But he did shoot Pete, and what had happened to Larry in the basement?

Noah pulled harder and forced the knife in a little deeper. "I'm waiting."

Dawson decided he could deny everything and still keep his reputation.

"K."

"K?"

"Yeah. Some rich guy named Michael K. I never met him or spoke to him. The guy he sent let it slip."

K. The name sounded familiar. He decided Dawson was telling the truth, but didn't move. "So, what am I going to do with you?"

For the first time that evening Dawson felt real fear. "Look, you got what you wanted! Now get out!"

Noah settled the blade across the main artery of Dawson's neck. "I'm not sure I should leave you alive."

"Look, I got no interest in your kid. Honest! It was just talk!"

Noah slammed Dawson's head to the floor and then quickly stood up.

"If I find out you're lying, I'll be back, and next time I won't be so forgiving."

Noah turned to head towards the door.

Dawson scrambled for the gun still lying on the floor. Just as he reached it, Noah turned and shot him. Whenever he carried one gun, he always felt the need to carry an extra.

He walked over and looked down at Dawson. Dead. Noah had counted on Dawson giving him a legitimate reason to kill him. He picked up his gun and tucked it into his pants next to the second one.

He checked on the other guy. Miraculously he was still breathing. Noah took out his cell phone and made a quick call. "Dawson's place. Yeah. Dawson. One dead, one still breathing. If you hurry he might make it. What? Yeah, I don't mind him staying alive. He won't talk. Take care of the clean up and let me know what I owe you."

Noah quietly left and headed for Mickey's.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Done!"

Tristan looked up from his iPad. Mickey was smiling triumphantly.

"With what?"

"The appeal paperwork for Ian. I was determined to finish it and I did! I found every single ridiculous document they requested, and filled in all 215 questions, in-depth. I bet I'm the only master in history to complete everything. I got written statements from everyone, Ian's work history, medical files, school transcripts, my work history and files, the five additional support letters, and every other stupid piece of information they asked for. I'm going to hand deliver everything to the district office in the morning, and email copies to every ministry official whose email address I can find. Plus, my dad is going to give copies to the congressmen who work with the ministry and anyone else we think can help. I'm going to get Ian back!"

Tristan watched Mickey grinning proudly at his computer screen, his eyes dancing with excitement and determination. Tristan couldn't help feeling extremely jealous.

"Um...Mickey...you know...it's been four months. What if Ian is happy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if he's happy where he's at? You know, slaves...we have an innate ability to adjust and adapt. It's natural and necessary in order for us to be happy and do whatever our masters want. If someone has claimed Ian and they're taking care of him, he's probably happy. Maybe you should leave him where he's at."

Mickey looked like someone had slapped him. He shook his head. "No. No one can care for Ian the way I can. No one knows him better than me. Ian is special. His submission is special. He has to be dominated and cared for in a certain way. He needs routine and showers, and his clothes chosen for him, and nurturing time and he needs to top sometimes in order to stay above his submission and just...no. No one can take care of him like me. He's my slave. I trained him. I built his world based on my needs and his. He needs me."

"But slaves can adjust, Mickey. He needed those things because that's what you needed and demanded as his master. He followed your desires. He will adjust to whoever he's with."

"No! That's not true. You don't know him, Tristan. Ian isn't like other slaves. His submission is powerful and stronger than most slaves. Yes, he'll submit, but his submission...his submission is like an ocean. It drowns him. It leaves him weak, vulnerable and lost. His submission imprisons him. He wants to be and needs to be completely dominated, but then it has to be balanced out with love, nurturing, encouragement, and permission to strengthen and rise above his submission. No one can care for Ian like me. No one."

"Most masters don't want their slaves to rise above their submission."

Mickey held his head higher and the determination in his eyes grew fiercer. "All the more reason why Ian needs me."

Tristan nodded and went back to staring at Kash's facebook page. Kash hadn't updated in months. What was he doing?

Mickey turned back to his computer and stared at the Ministry's website. Now his mind was mind full of apprehension and worry. Was it really possible that Ian was happy? Mickey always assumed Ian hadn't called him because he wasn't allowed to. Maybe he hadn't called because he didn't want to. Maybe he didn't really need Mickey. Maybe he could thrive under someone else. Mickey turned towards Tristan.

"Could you be happy with another master? I mean really, truly happy?"

Tristan felt torn. Honestly? He could settle for another master, if that master was Mickey, but his heart...his heart still belonged to Kash and deep down he knew he was wrong about Ian. Wherever Ian was, he was definitely longing for Mickey just like Tristan longed for Kash. He wasn't willing to admit this to Mickey. Instead he stood up and walked over to Mickey. He reached down and took his hand.

"I could be happy with you."

Mickey shook his head. "But you would never really be happy because you still love your master, right?"

Tristan sighed. He couldn't lie. He nodded sadly. Mickey stood up and wrapped his arms around him. "Don't worry, Tristan. I'm sure he'll come to his senses and call you. I really believe he must have had a good reason for what he did. Masters don't just unclaim slaves on a whim."

Tristan closed his eyes and inhaled Mickey's scent while his body relaxed in Mickey's embrace. Mickey was so good to him. Maybe it was time to tell him the truth. He hated having a secret. What harm could it do? High school was a long time ago.

Tristan pulled back. "Um...Mickey...there's something I need to tell you."

There was a loud banging on the door.

"Mickey! Open up, it's Noah."

Mickey looked at Tristan in alarm. He didn't want anyone to know about Tristan. Tristan nodded and whispered. "I'll hide in the bedroom."

"Coming!" Mickey walked to the door feeling like a cheating husband hiding his mistress from his mother-in-law. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. He opened the door.

"Why didn't you call? And how did you get in?"

Noah lightly laughed. "Please. I never use the front door."

Noah walked in carrying a duffel bag which he dropped on the floor. Mickey looked at him closely. He had a bruise under his left eye and on his right cheek, plus a few fresh scratches on his neck.

"Were you in a fight?"

"Yeah, but I'm fine. I think I know where your boy is."

Mickey's heart stopped and then tried to jump from his chest.

"Where?"

"Didn't you tell me a story about someone named K?"

Mickey's mouth dropped open. "Uh...yeah?" Mickey's heart started beating too fast as his chest tightened.

"Michael K paid Ian's friend, Kaden to make the abuse allegations. To be fair, Kaden kinda got pushed into it by that jerk, Jake, but he's the one that reported you to the ministry. Michael K paid him to do it. I'm assuming he's the father of..."

"Kash?" Mickey slowly shook his head. "No, no, no, please...no! That...it doesn't...it doesn't make sense! We haven't seen him since high school! He lives in France! He claimed someone! I'm sure of it. Wes said he lives in France with his slave!"

Noah quirked an eyebrow. "France? The JacqueLeTech Corporation." Noah paused for a moment, thinking. "It all makes sense. Michael K is CEO of Industries Tech Company. They have a large presence in the Midwest and east coast, and a European operation in Paris. I'm betting that JacqueLeTech is a part of Industries Tech. Maybe a smaller division, a special project or..."

"It's a new company."

Mickey and Noah turned to see Tristan standing in front of the bedroom door, tears rolling down his face. Noah looked at Tristan and then at Mickey with a smirk. Wow. The princess wasn't so innocent after all.

Mickey stared at Tristan. "How do you know?"

Tristan covered his mouth as he started sobbing loudly, his shoulders shaking. Mickey went to him.

"Tristan? What? What's wrong? What is it?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I should have told you, but I was scared you'd hate me! I didn't know! I swear I didn't know! I never thought..."

Mickey suddenly felt cold. He backed away just a bit. "You didn't know what?"

Tristan felt the chill and started crying harder. "I was gonna tell you tonight! I swear!"

Mickey was sure he was having a heart attack just like his father. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, his chest felt squeezed, and his head was starting to hurt.

"Tell me what!"

"Kash...my Kash...you know him. You went to school together. I didn't know! I swear! I just found the yearbook the other week and...I'm sorry! I didn't know he was involved...I'm sorry! Please, Mickey! Don't! No...don't!"

Tristan fell to his knees as Mickey backed away from him, shaking his head, his eyes full of hurt and anger.

"You...you're...you're Kash's slave? You mean..." He turned to Noah. "So, it's true? Kash has Ian?"

Noah shook his head. "I don't know that for sure, but it makes sense. Why else would Michael K pay someone to lie about you if not to make you lose Ian so he could give him to his son? The only thing I don't get is, why? I mean, all they needed was for Victoria to issue the rescind order. The abuse allegations weren't necessary. It was an expensive extra step. I don't get why he would do that."

The rage that boiled inside Mickey leading up to Ian's removal had melted away as sadness and heartbreak took over. Now the rage came roaring back and Tristan was its target.

Mickey stood over him, his eyes flashing with an angry, bright blue fire. "You! You set me up! You tricked me! He sent you, didn't he? Didn't he! You lying whore!"

Tristan cried and screamed. "No! No! I swear, Mickey! I swear! He didn't send me! He got rid of me, just like I told you! I swear! He doesn't know we met! I haven't talked to him since he released me! Please, Mickey! You have to believe me! It was all a coincidence! I swear, Mickey! I swear! Please! Don't hate me! I didn't know! I didn't know! I didn't know!"

Tristan buried his face in his hands as he dissolved into loud, broken sobs. Mickey just stared at him, his mind racing.

Tristan was Kash's slave.

Kash had Ian.

He had been fooling around with Kash's slave.

Kash had Ian.

Kash had Ian.

Kash had Ian!

The full meaning of this crashed into Mickey like a mountain. Kash. The one person who had stalked and tormented Ian in high school. The person Ian had always feared most.

The person Mickey had promised to protect Ian from.

" _Ignore what he said. It means nothing...I will claim you on your 18th birthday. I will claim you and you will be my slave. Mine. Not his. Mine."_

Ian was with Kash, possibly for four months.

Four months.

Mickey dropped to the couch and stifled the screams in his head as he forced down the bile rising in his throat. He looked up at Noah.

"We have to go get him."

Noah nodded. "I had a feeling you might say that." He jerked his head towards the duffel bag. "I made a quick detour and picked up my stuff. Get packed. Our flight leaves at 6:00 am."

Mickey glanced at the clock. It was close to midnight. Noah knew what he was thinking. "It's the earliest one, Mickey." Mickey nodded. He looked at Tristan who was still on his knees. He was staring at Mickey, tears running down his face as his eyes begged for forgiveness. Mickey's eyes turned cold, his voice pure ice.

"Get out. I never want to see you again."

"Mickey...please..."

"Get out!"

"Whoa, Mickey. Hold on a minute." Noah gave Tristan a hard look. "You say you don't know if Kash has Ian."

Tristan nodded vigorously. "I swear. I don't know. I can't imagine.."

Noah cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's a great guy. Whatever. Look, you wanna prove it?" Tristan nodded.

"Okay. Fine. You're coming with us."

Mickey looked horrified. "What!"

"Calm down, princess. Look I've been to Paris, but I don't speak French. We can waste time trying to find Kash, or we can have someone take us right to him."

Tristan jumped to his feet, excited about the prospect of seeing Kash. Of going home.

"Yes! Yes! I'll help you! I speak fluent French and I know my way around the city. I'll go with you. I'll help you."

Noah looked at Mickey. "Well?"

Mickey nodded. Anything that would get him to Ian faster.

"Alright. I'll go with Tristan to get his stuff." Noah shot Tristan a suspicious look. "Just in case you decide to get any ideas. We'll get his stuff and come back here, rest for a bit and then leave for the airport. Cool?"

Mickey nodded.

"Alright. Get dressed and come on."

As Tristan went to the bedroom to get his clothes, Mickey suddenly realized what this must look like to Noah. Mickey was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants, but Tristan wore only boxers.

"Noah...um...I...Tristan and I..."

Noah put up his hand. "I don't wanna know. Frankly, I don't care."

"But I don't want you to think that I'm..."

"Mickey! Stop! Doesn't matter. Look, I know you love Ian, alright? It's fine. I get it. Four months is a long time. People have needs and they get lonely. Believe me, I know."

Mickey decided to drop it. It didn't matter anyway. What mattered is that they were going to get Ian.

They were going to bring Ian home.

* * *

Ian lay in Kash's arms, lost and confused as his cock pressed against the steel of the cock cage. After struggling all night to process the presence of the cock cage, but no collar, his mind had decided to accept the cage as a collar. Adding to his confusion was Kash whispering loving words into his ear. Kash was purposely screwing with Ian's head in preparation for their claiming ceremony. Kash's mother had called and wanted him to come home next week for some stupid society party. He didn't want to take Ian back to the state's unclaimed. His father would have a fit, plus it was dangerous. Ian would be back on home soil. His submission would probably keep him from running, but why take chances?

They would leave tomorrow for the countryside. They would stay in one of Kash's favorite small towns that had an adorable cottage on a hill. He would claim Ian there and they would spend the week on a kind of honeymoon. He would fuck Ian until he couldn't. He tightened his hold around him and started whispering again.

"You're so gorgeous, Ian, and such a good boy. You deserve a reward."

Ian snuggled closer to Kash and waited. Yes, he was a good boy. Maybe this new master would finally fuck him. He was hungry for it, and the cock cage was driving him mad. Maybe he would even be allowed to come.

Kash untangled their bodies and climbed out of bed. "On your hands and knees, Ian." Ian moved obediently and waited. He flinched when Kash slid a slick finger into his hole and started stretching him. He only worked his ass for a moment before sliding a slick plug, tight and snug inside him. Ian's body trembled as his submission soared. Between the cock cage and the plug his mind was gone. Kash patted his head. "You're such a good boy. You may walk down the stairs, but from now on you crawl."

Ian slowly rose to his feet as the plug shifted and settled inside him. Kash reached around and pushed it in a bit further causing Ian to groan and his knees to buckle. Kash steadied him and led him downstairs. He fixed a large bowl of apple jacks with no milk and settled them on the couch. Ian sat between his legs, his head resting on Kash's chest. Kash grabbed handfuls of apple jacks and fed them to Ian like popcorn. He turned on the TV and flipped to a movie with English subtitles. Ian didn't feel like reading the words, so he closed his eyes and accepted the cereal Kash pushed into his mouth. Once he was finished, Kash sat the bowl on the floor and wrapped his arms around him. Ian snuggled back against him and felt Kash's dominance cover him, thicker and heavier than before. Kash stroked his hair and spoke to him quietly.

"Tomorrow will be our claiming day. The plug is to get you ready. I'm going to fuck you into little pieces, gorgeous."

Ian fell deeper into the confused mess of his brain.

A claim. A collar. A master.

Ian fell asleep under the heavy warmth and protective feel of Kash, but his mind dreamed of Mickey. They were strange dreams where Mickey was present, but faint. An almost shadowy figure Ian struggled to see. Every time he was close to gaining a clear view, Kash would appear in front of him. Tall, strong, and powerful. He would command Ian to serve him, and Ian would fall to his knees. By the time he was done, the image of Mickey was gone.

"Ian...hey, Ian...pretty boy, wake up."

Ian opened his eyes and stared at Kash with wide, obedient eyes. Kash sighed in contentment at this clear sign of brokenness and pure submission. Ian was definitely ready to be claimed.

"Stand up and bend over, gorgeous." Kash removed the plug. "I think that's enough for today. You will sleep with it inside you tonight. Let's get dressed. We're going out to lunch. I think it's time for you to meet some people."

* * *

Mickey fidgeted nervously as they waited to board the plane. Everything was moving too slow. He wanted to go, go, go. They had to get going. Now that he knew where Ian might be, all he wanted to do was hurry up and get there.

Once Noah and Tristan left, Mickey had started packing. How long would they be gone? What if Kash didn't have Ian? No. He had to have him. He had to. Why else would Michael K pay all that money?

He decided to pack for a week. He stopped midway through and looked at Ian's side of the closet. Should he pack clothes for Ian? Did Kash have clothes for him? Did Kash pick out his clothes every morning? Ian really liked having his clothes chosen for him.

Kash.

Mickey sat on the bed and broke down crying. Did Kash have Ian the entire four months? What had he been doing to him? Had he claimed him? What if they got there and Ian was wearing Kash's collar? If Ian was collared, Mickey couldn't take him. Bile rose in his throat and this time he didn't try to hold back. He ran to the bathroom and threw up.

He gave himself 15 minutes to cry before picking himself up off the floor. He stared in the mirror.

 _Okay. Enough. It doesn't matter what Kash's done. Ian belongs to you. Stop crying and carrying on and go get your slave._

Mickey finished packing, throwing in a few clothes and items for Ian. He took a long hot shower and was in the middle of moisturizing when Noah and Tristan returned. Noah looked exhausted while Tristan looked sad and scared. Mickey pulled out the sofa bed. Noah pulled off his jacket and jeans and fell into the bed without a word. Tristan looked at Mickey and then away quickly. He couldn't stand the coldness in Mickey's eyes. Mickey didn't say a word to him. He turned off the light and went to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving Tristan standing in the dark. Tristan cried silently as he pulled off his pants and gently laid down on the bed, as far away as possible from Noah. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to fall asleep, but his hurt wouldn't allow him to relax along with the image of Mickey's cold, blue eyes. He finally got up and went to Mickey's room.

He knocked softly before going in. "Mickey? Mickey?" Mickey pretended to be asleep, but he couldn't sleep. He was too worked up. He heard Tristan move quietly across the floor to the bed. He felt the dip and shake of the bed as Tristan laid down. He could feel Tristan's warm breath caressing his face as Tristan laid on his side and watched Mickey sleep. He spoke softly.

"I know you hate me and I guess you have every right to, but...please believe me when I say I didn't know and that Kash didn't send me. I hope you'll forgive me one day because...I love you. I know you want Ian and that's fine. I want you to have Ian. I just don't want to lose you as a friend. You've been so good to me, and...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry my master...I'm sorry Kash hurt you."

Tristan stopped as new tears ran down his cheeks. How much more could he cry tonight? He rolled over and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come from him being close to Mickey. Several minutes later, Tristan felt an arm gently wrap around his waist and pull him close. Tristan's entire body relaxed and he fell asleep.

As the plane taxied down the runway, Mickey felt a tiny bit better. He also felt grateful to Noah. Not only had he purchased three first class tickets, Mickey was shocked when Noah handed him passports for both him and Ian.

"How did you...when did you?"

Noah grinned. "I know people."

As the plane took off, Mickey reached over and grabbed Noah's hand.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"Don't thank me yet. Kash might not have Ian."

Mickey shook his head. "I'm sure he has him, but I can't believe he would do this. After all these years. After claiming Tristan. To get rid of Tristan to steal Ian...it just doesn't make sense. It's crazy and sick."

Noah glanced around and lowered his voice. "Look, Mickey. I don't know what we're about to find out, but if we get there and this dude has Ian, and he's claimed him...well...I don't know what to tell you. You can't just take a claimed slave. There is a serious possibility that we will have to leave without Ian in order to regroup and come up with a plan."

Mickey nodded and then turned to face straight ahead.

He was not leaving Paris without Ian.

* * *

Lip rolled over and reluctantly picked up his iPad. He sat back against the headboard and closed his eyes. It was so good to be back home. Being away had been hell. His need to dominate had practically eaten him alive, but he was glad he'd left Karen at home. The deep, dark cold of Siberia was no place for his sweet, beautiful slave. He opened his eyes and smiled appreciatively at her as she slept, exhausted from being taken over and over again, her wrists and ankles tightly bound just the way she liked and Lip preferred. He gently caressed her hair and felt his cock twitch when she instinctively moaned under his gentle touch and scooted closer to his body. He removed his hand, not wanting to wake her. She needed to sleep because he planned to continue screwing the hell out of her when she woke up. He had months to make up for.

He quietly cursed as he opened his email. While most of Siberia had internet access, the far upper north location he'd been in had intermittent access and almost no cell phone service. Lip found himself constantly losing emails and struggling to get his cell phone to work. The entire trip had been a long, cold, lonely nightmare, and he still couldn't figure out why his mother had insisted on sending him. None of her reasons made sense, but Lip always did what his mother wanted and what was best for the company. After all, it would all be his one day.

He started scrolling, quickly deleting spam messages and email ads. He almost hit delete before recognizing the address, kmilkovichNY at yahoo dot com.

 _Since I haven't heard from you, I'm assuming you're either not receiving my messages, or you don't care. Since I don't know for sure either way, I thought I would go ahead and send this to you._

 _Attached is my appeal to get Ian back. I've sent this to the Ministry and am also sending it to anyone I think can help. I love your brother and I want him back. I'm not giving up._

 _If you aren't interested just delete the file, let me know, and I'll stop bothering you._

 _Mickey_

What the fuck?

Lip clicked on the file and read through the first few pages outlining the investigation into Mickey, and Ian's removal by rescind order.

Rescind order?

What the hell?

Lip grabbed his cell phone.

* * *

Ian listened attentively as Kash drove to Maitres.

"All slaves must crawl and must sit at their master's feet. It's club rules. After a year I can petition for you to be allowed to walk. If you're a good boy, I'll do that. Petitions are always granted."

 _A year? Will I still be here a year from now?_

"The first floor is the dining room. That's where we're going. The second floor is private meeting rooms. The third floor is the gym and the fourth and fifth floors..." Kash smiled wickedly, "...the fourth floor is the pleasure floor. That's where parties are held for masters to show off their slaves. There are rooms where masters can torture their slaves while an audience watches, and rooms for masters to share their slaves. I don't share, but I sometimes like to watch."

Ian swallowed as excitement bubbled inside him. Chandler and Seth belonged to a club like this. Chandler never shared Seth, and they never performed in public, but they liked to go and watch to see if there were things they might like to try together. Mickey and Ian had briefly discussed joining a club years ago, but they never made a decision and the conversation never came up again.

"What's on the fifth floor?"

"The fifth floor is hardcore slave punishment and torture. You have to have a special pass and sign certain documents to access that floor."

Ian hated the way his cock pressed against the steel of the cage. He didn't ask if Kash had a pass.

They pulled up front and a valet immediately appeared. Once they reached the door, Ian dropped to the ground.

"I don't have a leash for you since you don't have your collar yet, so you'll have to be a good boy and stay right with me." Ian nodded.

Once inside, Ian was blown away. The restaurant was breathtakingly beautiful. Large, open and spacious, but dim and very formal. Replicas of famous French artwork adorned the walls and ceiling. There were beautiful crystal chandeliers and the colors were deep maroons, gold and ivory. But despite the formal décor, there was an air of excitement and sensuality. Everyone seemed classy, wealthy and sophisticated. As they walked through the restaurant, Kash stopped to say hello to people and give and receive kisses on the cheek. Ian was surprised when Kash started introducing him to people. The masters smiled and nodded at him. He shyly nodded back and moved closer to Kash. He couldn't understood what was being said, but he still caught the name Tristan occasionally. Kash no longer tensed at the mention. Instead he rattled off something in French that always seemed to appease the person asking. The slaves on the other hand, regarded him coolly. They didn't smile or nod. They glared angrily. It took Ian a moment to catch on. Of course. These were Tristan's friends. Naturally they wouldn't like Tristan's replacement.

Once they made it to their table, they were quickly joined by others. Ian sat comfortably on the floor, as close to Kash as possible. Kash stroked his hair which Ian found soothing. He tuned out until he heard someone speaking to Kash in English.

"So, what time are you getting to the party tonight?"

"I'm not going this year."

"What? I'm not sure the party can happen if you and Royce aren't there. Isn't there a law or something?"

Kash smiled and shook his head. "I'm sure Royce will be there. I'm just not up to it. I wanna spend time with Ian. Our claiming day is tomorrow."

"Ah, congratulations! Yeah, it's probably best not to be out partying with other slaves the night before a claim. That is rather tacky."

Ian was grateful when lunch arrived. He devoured the sandwich and salad placed before him. Kash allowed him to choose a dessert which he finished in minutes. These days he was always hungry.

Full and sleepy, he leaned his head against Kash's leg and closed his eyes. Kash smiled down at him and stroked his hair as he continued chatting with his friends.

About an hour and a half later they left. As they waited for the valet to bring their car, Royce watched them from across the street. He was just arriving for an early dinner.

He watched Ian get into the car.

Maybe it was time to pay his friend another visit.

* * *

"Mother!"

Victoria sighed and looked up from her desk. She could hear Lip screaming down the hallway. She knew this was coming.

Lip burst into her office, his face red and angry. "What the hell did you do? Where's Ian?"

"Well it's nice to see you too, Lip. How was your trip?"

"Stop it! What did you do? Where is Ian?"

"Ian is fine. Trust me. He's with his new master and he's fine."

"New...new master! Are you crazy? Why would you take him from Mickey?"

"Mickey was accused of abusing your brother and..."

"Bullshit! You know that's not true! Besides, you wouldn't care! Where is he?"

"That is none of your business."

"None of my...are you insane? Tell me where my brother is, now!"

Victoria sat back and folded her hands. "Is this where Karen gets it from? You two are awfully demanding. And ungrateful."

"Ungrateful? Are you kidding me? I just spent months in the freezing ice and snow, away from my home, away from my slave, on some stupid ass, exploratory mission for you! Don't you dare accuse me of being ungrateful, you bitch! Where's my brother!"

Victoria jumped up. "How dare you speak to me that way! I love you, Lip, but I will not be disrespected by you, or anyone else! Your time away has obviously left you tired and overwrought. Go home and get some sleep and we will discuss this when you are in a better frame of mind."

"Where's Ian? Just tell me where he is?"

"I told you. He's with his new master."

"Who?"

Victoria was silent for a moment. Lip would find out eventually. He was smart. He'd look at the finances for the expansion and start asking questions. Then he would put two and two together. Might as well save him the trouble.

"He's with Michael K's son, Kash."

"Kash? You gave Ian to Kash? Serial rapist, Kash?"

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it! He was young and dumb. That was years ago. He's grown into a fine young man. He's running one of his father's new companies in Paris and doing quite well."

"How could you do this? How could you? You know Ian never liked Kash. He told you he didn't want to be claimed by him. How could you do this? To your own son. How could you destroy Ian like this?"

"Would you please stop being so over-dramatic? Everything you're bringing up happened years ago in high school. High school, Lip! Get over it! Ian is fine. Now, why don't you go get some rest? Things are running smoothly in Europe. Take a few weeks to rest, and then I'll bring you up to speed on everything."

"Tell me why? Why did you do this?"

"I told you. Mickey was abusing Ian. When I found out, I took steps to protect him."

Lip was about to protest, but thought better of it. He stood up.

"I'll talk to you later." He turned and left. Victoria frowned as she watched him leave. That was strangely abrupt.

Lip waited until he was in his car to call his assistant.

"Get me every single thing on the European expansion. All the financials, the contracts, everything. And get me a meeting with Michael K."

He hung up and dialed Ian's cell phone number. The phone rang on the nightstand in Mickey and Ian's apartment.

 _Ian...it's Lip. I don't know if you still have your phone, but if you do, call me. Call me as soon as you get this. I need to know that you're okay._

He dialed Mickey's number next.

 _Mickey...it's Lip. I got your email. I'm sorry. I had no idea. I was out of the country for months on business. Actually, I now realize that my mother just needed me out of the way so she could pull this shit on you and Ian. I'm sorry, Mickey. Call me. I wanna help you. Call me._

* * *

After lunch Kash and Ian strolled the streets of Paris. Kash pointed out all the major sights, his favorite cafes and clothing boutiques. They stopped at a bakery where Ian ate way too many cookies and rich French pastries. With meal times still being a bit erratic, he always felt the need to eat whenever food was made available.

By the time they arrived home it was late, Ian was worn out, and his stomach hurt. Kash immediately changed into a t-shirt and boxers, but Ian wanted to take a shower first. He took off his clothes and stared at the cock cage. It wasn't a problem to shower while wearing the cage, but Ian was used to having it removed. Of course, he was also accustomed to showering with his master, not alone.

Since Kash didn't bother to come upstairs to check on him, Ian showered with the cage on. By the time he was done, his stomach really hurt. Way too many pastries. He walked downstairs, dropping to his knees at the bottom. He crawled over to Kash and placed his head in his lap. Kash frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't feel good."

"Okay. Go upstairs and get in your cage. I'll be up in a while."

Ian slowly crawled to the stairs and walked back up. He crawled into the cage and closed the door. It locked automatically. He laid down and hugged his stomach. Ow. It really hurt bad. Mickey would have held him, and kissed him, and rubbed his purr spot. Of course, Mickey wouldn't have allowed him to eat all that stuff in the first place.

He tossed and turned before finally falling into a restless sleep.

Kash stared at the collar for Ian. It was silver with blue sapphires, designed by Cartier, and very, very expensive. As he stared at it, his mind wandered back in time to another claiming day. He shook the thought from his head and slammed the box shut. He placed it on his desk and sat down on the couch. It was a little after 7:00 pm. His cell phone rang with texts from friends who were hitting the pre-Black and Red parties. He sent texts back to let them know he hadn't changed his mind, he wasn't coming, and to have a great time. He turned on the TV and flipped channels until he found a show worth watching.

Mickey tapped his foot impatiently as they prepared to disembark. He'd slept on the plane and was now wide awake, full of nervous energy and adrenaline. He was in Paris. Ian was in Paris. They were in the same city again and soon they would be together.

Once they were off the plane, Tristan took the lead. "Do you want to rent a car or take a taxi?" Noah answered. "Rental car. It's always best to have your own set of wheels."

"Okay. This way."

Kash dozed off. He was awakened by loud banging on his door. He stood up and stumbled to the door in a half asleep, half awake state. He threw it open.

"Really, Kash? Asleep? It's not even 10:00 pm!"

Royce.

"Hey." Kash turned and walked back to the couch. He yawned and ran his hand through his hair and over his face. "What are you doing here?"

Royce headed straight to the bar. "Just thought I'd come see if you changed your mind about tonight."

Kash shook his head. "No."

Royce downed his drink and looked around. Where was the slave?

Finally awake, Kash eyed him suspiciously. "Aren't you going to the pre-parties?"

Royce grinned. "Already been to one. On my way to another. Like I said, just wanted to check on you...and your new slave."

Kash was prepared for this. He knew taking Ian to Maitres would lead to Royce finding out.

"We're fine."

"Can I meet him?"

Kash shook his head. "He's not feeling well."

"Uh huh." Royce glanced at the stairs and back at Kash. "Ya know, I get the distinct impression that you don't want me to meet him."

"I told you. He's sick. I think he ate too much stuff today."

Royce's smile was mean. Okay. Fine. Be that way.

"Well, I'm glad to see you moving on. It's nice to see both you and Tristan moving on."

Kash sighed with a frown. This shit again.

"Yeah, well. I guess."

Royce quirked an eyebrow. "You don't care if Tristan's moved on?"

"No." _Lie. Lie. Lie._

Royce stood up and walked to the window. Night was beginning to fall. He spoke evenly, enjoying every second.

"Good. Then you won't mind if I give him a call."

"What?"

"You won't mind if I give him a call. If he's still available, I might like to claim him."

"What are you talking about? You can't claim Tristan."

"Why not? If he's free..."

Kash shook his head. "You can't claim him."

Royce turned and stared directly into Kash's eyes. "Why not? I already fucked him."

The color drained from Kash's face. "Wh-what?"

"I already fucked him, and let me tell ya, I don't know what you have hiding upstairs that could possibly match the deliciousness of Tristan."

Kash laughed lightly and shook his head. "You're just fucking with me."

"Oh, believe me. I'm not. He was incredible. So...open and willing. I swear his skin tastes like brown sugar. And I was right about pulling his hair. He screamed in the most amazing ways. Which makes sense when you think about it. Tell me, when you used to fuck him did you notice the birthmark on his inner right thigh? It sorta looks like a crescent..."

Kash jumped to his feet, screaming. "You asshole! You bastard! How could you? How could you do that to me!"

"I didn't do anything to you, dumb ass! You released him! You made him fair game!"

"No! No! Not for you! Not for you! I knew it! I knew you always wanted him! Don't think I didn't notice how you used to look at him! You're supposed to be my best friend! How could you do this shit to me!"

"Oh, grow the fuck up, Kash! I did you a favor! Tristan was always too good for you! Even you knew that! But now that he's turned into a whore, I'd say he's perfect for you!"

Kash lunged, swinging his fist. Royce had nothing but time on his hands, so he'd spent a year taking private martial arts lessons. Even in his slightly intoxicated state, he effortlessly landed several punches to Kash's face, chest and stomach sending Kash crashing into the wall, knocking over a bookshelf. Kash managed to quickly recover and land a few punches of his own. They grabbed each other and started wrestling and slamming each other into the walls. Royce flipped Kash over, sending him crashing into the desk.

All the noise woke up Ian. He sat up on his knees and grabbed the bars of the cage.

"Kash?"

There was another loud crash.

"Kash! Kash!"

Kash couldn't answer because Royce was beating the shit out of him.

Behind every punch, kick and flip were years of pent up jealousy and hurt. Despite his own amazing looks, wealth, and plenty of slaves, both male and female, who wanted him, Royce always had a deep, burning jealousy of Kash. Especially after he claimed Tristan.

In college it was Royce who first laid eyes on Tristan. Like so many masters before him, Royce struck up a friendly conversation and asked him out. Tristan politely declined. Royce wasn't going to give up that easily, but then Kash saw Tristan and it was over. Royce hated him for that. For being able to so easily take what he wanted. He seethed with jealousy as he watched the two fall in love with each other, and he dutifully held the collar tray on their claiming day. He never said anything to Kash, but Kash always had a feeling Royce harbored desire for Tristan. He decided it was only natural. After all, Tristan was a beautiful slave and Royce was a master. It was natural for him to find Tristan attractive. Most gay men and women did. As long as he never acted on it, it was fine.

Royce's final punch sent Kash spinning to the floor, hitting his head on the hard edge of the chair. He lay there, unmoving. His head bleeding, his face bruised, and his body battered.

Royce stood over him, breathing hard, slightly dizzy and drunk. He stared at Kash's lifeless body for a moment before staggering to the bar to fix another drink.

"Kash! Kash! What's going on? Kash!"

Royce looked towards the stairs and smiled.

* * *

As Mickey listened to Tristan negotiate the car rental, he was glad they decided to have him come. Yes, he'd taken French for years, and was a pretty good speaker, but it didn't compare to being in the country trying to keep up with true Frenchmen.

Once they were settled in the car Tristan turned to Mickey.

"Do you want to find a hotel first or..."

"Kash. Take us to Kash."

Tristan glanced back nervously at Noah. "Um...if we get there and...he does have Ian...you...you're not going to hurt him, are you? I won't let you hurt him."

Mickey glared at him angrily. "After the way he's treated you? You do understand that if he has Ian, which I'm sure he does, it means he released you because he wanted another slave and didn't care about hurting you or Ian. He's a selfish, heartless, son-of-a-bitch who doesn't deserve your love, concern or protection. Now drive."

Tristan started the car. _Maybe. But I still love him._

* * *

"Kash! Kash!"

Ian stopped yelling when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Kash, what's..." he trailed off as Royce entered the room.

Royce's eyes glazed over with an evil lust as he stared at Ian, shirtless, in boxers, his hair long and curly, his eyes wide with fear.

"Well, well, well. No wonder he's been hiding you. Aren't you pretty?" Royce cocked his head to the side. "You're not beautiful like Tristan, but you're definitely gorgeous. A different kind of beauty."

Ian inched backwards, but there was nowhere for him to go. Royce walked over and knelt down in front of the cage. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He opened them and stared at Ian, slightly bewildered.

"Shit. Is that your submission? I can fucking smell it. Damn."

Royce pulled at the locked cage door. He stood up and started looking around the room and searching the dresser. Where was the cage key?

Ian edged all the way back to the corner of the cage, his body shaking with fear. Where the hell was Kash?

Royce gave up his search of the bedroom and went downstairs. He picked through the mess until he found Kash's keys. He ran back upstairs. The cage key was easy to pick out. All cage keys looked like ornate, medieval dungeon keys.

"Let's get you out of there, shall we?"

Ian cowered in the corner as Royce unlocked the door.

"Come on out, pretty."

Ian trembled and tried to resist. Four months ago he would have been able to say no, but now his mind struggled to form thoughts of refusal under the heavy presence and strong tone of a master. His submission burned, urging him to obey.

Royce looked directly into his eyes. "Come out, now."

Ian obediently crawled out.

"Stand up."

Royce walked around him, taking him all in. "Damn. You are lovely. What's your name?"

"Ian."

Royce's face lit up. "Ian? Ian from high school, Ian? Wow! Kash's been a very busy boy." Royce's grin slowly morphed into a wicked, lustful smile. He licked his lips as he reached out and tangled his fingers in Ian's curls. "He does like boys with hair. Not that I blame him. The way you boys scream is amazing." Ian shrieked as Royce grabbed a bunch of curls and pulled hard. Royce laughed.

"Downstairs. Now."

Ian obediently walked downstairs followed by Royce. He looked around the wrecked living room in shock when he spotted Kash bleeding in the corner, still unconscious. He started to move towards him.

"Freeze! On your knees!"

Ian immediately fell to his knees. His voice was quiet and quivering with fear. "Kash? Kash...please...wake up." Kash remained motionless.

Royce stood over Ian and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. "I've started a new tradition. I get to fuck all of Kash's slaves, past and future. I mean, it's only fair. If he's going to dump me to spend all his time with you, I think I should get a little consolation piece of ass, don't you?"

"Please...don't...I..."

"Shhh. Don't worry. I won't be gentle. I never am. Just ask Tristan."

Royce unzipped his pants. Ian struggled against his mind's natural response to the sound.

"Please...please...no..."

* * *

Tristan pulled up to the back of the building and punched in the code to raise the garage door. Thank God it hadn't changed. He pulled in and parked. Now that they were finally steps away from Kash's home, Mickey could barely control the urgency racing through his body. He was sure Kash had Ian, and he had a sick feeling that Ian was in major trouble. He forced himself to follow Tristan instead of running past him towards the elevators. Tristan suddenly stopped. Mickey practically growled.

"What? What is it?"

Tristan pointed to the black Lamborghini. "That's his car. He's home."

Noah whistled. "Nice wheels."

Mickey felt like screaming. "Come on!"

They boarded the elevator and Tristan hit 15.

* * *

Royce tangled both hands in Ian's hair and pulled his head back further. Ian's eyes filled with tears.

Royce closed his eyes. "Damn. Your submission just wafts off you. It's incredible." He suddenly let go of Ian's hair and stepped back.

"Stand up."

Ian quickly stood. Royce placed his hands on his shoulders. "If your submission is this strong before I've even touched you, what's it like if I bring our bodies together? I bet it's fucking fireworks." He started backing Ian towards the wall.

There was the sound of a key in the lock. Shit. Royce figured it was John. He stepped back from Ian.

The door opened.

Tristan and Mickey stumbled into the living room as they both tried to be the first to enter. They were momentarily shocked into stillness as they took in the destroyed living room. Then Mickey saw him.

"Ian!"

Ian stared in disbelief as Mickey ran forward and grabbed him in a crushing hug. "Oh, Ian! Ian! Ian!" Mickey pulled back for just a moment to check Ian's neck.

No collar.

He hadn't been claimed.

Mickey started sobbing uncontrollably as he squeezed Ian tight.

Tristan scanned the room searching for Kash. He walked in further and spotted him in the corner. "Kash!" Tristan ran over and kneeled beside him. "Kash? Kash?" Tristan gasped as he spied the gash in Kash's head along with the swelling and bruises on his face. The bleeding had stopped, leaving a sticky trail of blood across Kash's forehead and cheek. "Kash? Oh, God! Kash, wake up!"

Noah stared at Royce who was quickly zipping his pants and glancing towards the door. Noah stepped in front of him.

"Who are you?"

"None of your..." He was cut off as Noah delivered a stunning punch to Royce's face. Royce stumbled back and fell. Noah stood over him and glared. "I don't know who you are, but the fact that your zipper was down and Ian was against a wall is all I really need to know." Royce moaned, "fuck you," and received a swift kick in the stomach and balls in response.

Mickey loosened his hold on Ian to study Ian's eyes. His heart filled with pain.

Ian was broken.

Ian's strength and fight were gone, replaced by fear wrapped in a deep, strong, smothering submission, worse than high school. What did Kash do to him? What had Ian endured? Mickey felt a boiling rage fill him along with the urgent need to get them out of there.

Ian stared at Mickey with wide, confused eyes. He couldn't believe he was really there. Mickey took his hand.

"Ian, where are your clothes? Do you have clothes?"

Ian nodded and glanced towards the stairs. Mickey quickly headed for the stairs, pulling Ian along behind him. Ian glanced confusedly at Noah, but stopped completely when he saw the beautiful boy he recognized from the portrait at the island house. He stared until Mickey pulled him along.

Tristan was sitting on the floor, crying and cradling Kash's head in his lap. His tears fell on Kash's bloodied, bruised face. Kash was in too much pain to move, but he managed to open his eyes a tiny crack. He could just make out a fuzzy image of Tristan's face. He was sure it was an illusion brought on by his pain, but what a nice illusion. He managed to open his eyes a bit further.

"Kash!" Tristan started crying harder in relief. Kash slowly raised his hand to caress Tristan's cheek. He closed his eyes and drifted back into unconsciousness as Tristan's submission floated over him, triggering his dominance to rise and wrap around Tristan. Tristan sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Home. Right or wrong, Kash was home.

At the top of the stairs Mickey stopped and looked around. He took a guess and walked straight into Kash's bedroom. He froze when he saw the cage.

A cage.

Had Ian spent time in that cage?

Mickey pressed a hand to his stomach, hoping to quell the thick nausea surging inside. His eyes slowly moved to the chains on the wall and the whip in the corner. He felt hot and sick. He quickly walked to the closet and froze again when he saw all the expensive designer clothes. He would've been jealous if he hadn't been so eager to get them the hell out of there. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt.

"Put these on."

Ian took the shirt and quickly pulled it over his head to hide his back. He looked at the pants, but didn't reach for them. Instead he stared at the floor. Mickey didn't notice. He was too busy scanning the room as if he expected someone to suddenly jump out and stop him from taking Ian. Several moments passed before Mickey realized Ian was just standing there.

"Ian? Put these on so we can go."

Ian tensed as his eyes filled with fear.

"Ian?"

Ian licked his lips, his eyes still on the floor. His voice was scarcely a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Mickey's heart was thumping hard and loud. _No, no, no. Please don't be happy with him like Tristan said. Please don't want to stay. Please? I love you._

Ian's hands trembled as he slowly pulled down his boxers revealing the cock cage.

Mickey felt slightly faint from the surge of emotions that attacked him all at once, the overwhelming one being anger.

Kash put a cock cage on Ian.

Kash put a cock cage on his slave. On his Ian.

Mickey's eyes flashed with anger and disgust that Ian mistook as directed at him. He collapsed to his knees and sobbed.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I…I tried…I did…but…I…I got weak…my body…my…the way I am…I'm sorry…"

Ian broke down crying. Mickey dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around him.

"Shhh. Ian, my love, it's okay. This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. I love you. I love you and you are mine. You will always be mine. I love you, Ian. I love you."

Ian wilted in Mickey's arms as relief along with the weight of everything else crashed down on him.

Mickey held him for several minutes before pulling them to their feet. His determination was renewed. He had to get Ian home as soon as possible. He looked around and spotted Kash's keys on the bed. He grabbed them and found the small key to the cock cage. He quickly unlocked it and threw it across the room. He helped Ian put on his pants and shoes and pulled him down the stairs.

Tristan stood up when Mickey and Ian entered the room. He stared intently at Ian. He was very curious about the man who caused his master to release him. What was so special about him?

Noah looked at Mickey. "Alright. Now what?"

"We're leaving. We need to find a hotel and figure out the next available flight home." Mickey turned to Tristan. "Are you coming?"

Noah shook his head. "Wait a minute, Mickey. You can't just take him. I told you that. He's still owned by this JacqueLeTech Corporation. You take him without permission and it's kidnapping."

Mickey's dominance rose and his chin lifted in defiance.

"I don't care. You're crazy if you think I'm leaving him here. He hasn't been claimed, so that means he's free. I'm taking him."

"Come on, Mickey. By now you know we are dealing with people and entities that don't play by the same ministry rules as the rest of the world. Is he free since he's not claimed? Technically, yes. But the rescind order was done legally and so was the hand off to JacqueLeTech. You can't just take him! We need a plan."

Kash suddenly moaned and stirred. Tristan ran to him and kneeled down. "Kash? Honey? Are you okay?"

Mickey stared at Kash.

Hatred. Pure, unfiltered, unadulterated, hatred.

Mickey lost it.

He ran towards Kash, pushed Tristan out of the way and started kicking Kash in the stomach, adding to the intense pain he was already experiencing. Kash cried out while Mickey screamed at him.

"I hate you! I hate you! You stupid, selfish, destructive, son-of-a-bitch! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Tristan jumped up and grabbed Mickey. "Stop it! Stop it! He's already hurt!"

"I don't care! I wish he were dead! He's a sick, worthless excuse for a human being!" Mickey tried to kick Kash again, but Tristan blocked him. "Stop it! Stop it! You're hurting him!"

"Why are your protecting him? After what he did to you? To me? To Ian? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't care! I love him! I love him!"

Mickey stumbled backwards. "Then have him! You can rot in hell with him, because that's where he's going!"

Mickey turned and wrapped his arms around Ian, sobbing. This time Ian returned the embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around Mickey. Mickey noticed how much thinner Ian felt in his arms. He pulled back a bit and studied Ian's face. He was pale, and looked like he might pass out at any moment.

Mickey abandoned his rage. He needed to focus on Ian. "Enough of this." He looked at Tristan. "We're leaving. I assume you're staying?"

Surprisingly, Tristan looked torn. For months he'd dreamed of being back home with Kash. Of feeling Kash's dominance wrapped around him. Despite everything he still loved Kash.

But...

Kash had treated him horribly. He'd thrown him out like garbage. What if he did it again? A slave needed to have trust in their master. How could he ever trust Kash again?

He looked back at Kash, lying on the floor, moaning in pain. Despite everything, Tristan couldn't leave him. Not like this.

"I know you don't approve, but..I love him. I still love him, and...maybe he still loves me."

Ian spoke quietly. "He does."

Tristan's eyes filled with hope. "Really?" Ian nodded.

Mickey was alarmed. "Tristan, look at everything that's happened. Everything you've been through, and that I've been through. It all happened because of him! He's a selfish jerk. You deserve better. Someone who will treat you well. What if he throws you out again?"

Tristan stepped forward and took Mickey's hand. "I'm willing to take that chance. I love him, Mickey. I know I shouldn't, but I do. I can't help it. I wanna stay and see where things go. Plus, this way I can help you. I'll convince him to have his father sign the papers giving you Ian once and for all. It's the least I can do for all you've done for me. If it wasn't for you, Mickey, there's no telling where I'd be right now. You saved me, so let me try to save Ian for you."

"Tristan...you're so beautiful. You could do so much better, and you can't trust him. He's proven that he can't be trusted."

"I know, but maybe things will be okay. Especially if Ian's right."

"If something happens, promise you'll call me. You can call me and I'll help you." Mickey paused as he realized how that sounded. "Not help you like...you know. I mean, I'll help you move on with your life." Tristan smiled and nodded. He leaned over and kissed Mickey's cheek. "Thank you."

Tristan gave Noah the keys to the rental car and wrote down the name and address of his favorite luxury hotel in Paris along with directions.

It was only then that they noticed Royce was gone.

Noah was pissed."Who was he?"

Tristan wrapped his arms around himself as the last time he saw Royce flashed through his mind. "Kash's best friend."

"Do we need to worry about him?"

Tristan shook his head. "No."

Tristan walked them to the door. Mickey looked at him. "You're sure about this?"

Tristan nodded."Yes. I know he's made a lot of mistakes. Really awful, terrible mistakes, but...I can't help how I feel. I still love him."

Mickey nodded. "Okay. Just...let me know if he agrees about Ian."

Tristan nodded. "I'll be in touch."

After Mickey, Ian and Noah left, Tristan searched all over the living room for Kash's keys before thinking to check upstairs. He ran upstairs and was surprised by the new bedroom set up. Kash had changed everything around.

And added a brand new cage to the room.

Tristan's heart hurt as he stared at it.

He picked up Kash's keys and slowly walked downstairs. He kneeled next to Kash and whispered in his ear. "I'm going to take you to the hospital, and help you get better, and then we are going to talk."

Kash blinked and tried to focus on Tristan's face. His voice was quiet and weak.

"I still...love you. Always...have."

Tristan smiled.

* * *

Mickey opened the hotel room door and was once again grateful they'd brought Tristan. The hotel was perfect. Beautiful and comfortable. He kept his arm around Ian's waist and led him to the bed, sitting him down gently. He thanked the bellhop for bringing up his bags and apologized for tipping him in American dollars. When the door closed, Mickey finally exhaled.

He had Ian back.

His beautiful, but broken Ian. How deep was the damage?

For the first time in their relationship Mickey wasn't sure how to take care of Ian. How long had Ian remained strong before succumbing to his powerful submission? And once the submission took over, what had Kash done to him?

Mickey decided to start with what felt natural, normal. A shower.

"Ian?" Mickey's heart broke as Ian looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Why was he afraid? "Let's take a shower, okay?"

Ian nodded, but as Mickey studied him, he decided a bath would be better. Ian looked to weak to stand. He mentally thanked Tristan again when he walked into the huge, luxurious bathroom with a large jacuzzi tub.

Ian was sitting on the bed, staring at the floor, looking tense and scared. Mickey kneeled down in front of him.

"Let's take a bath instead." Ian nodded. Mickey removed Ian's shoes and helped him out of his pants. Mickey started removing his own clothes leaving Ian to remove his boxers and shirt. Ian slipped off his boxers, but didn't remove his shirt. Instead he stared at the floor. Mickey stood naked in front of him. Was this too much? "Ian?" Ian slowly looked up, his eyes full of guilt. Why guilt?

"What's wrong?"

Ian stared into Mickey's eyes. God, how many nights had he dreamed of those beautiful, blue eyes. Eyes that stared at him with so much love. Would Mickey look at him with love once he learned what he'd done with Kash? Once he saw his back? Once he knew how much he'd enjoyed it?"

Ian licked his lips. "I...I'm sorry..."

Mickey shook his head. "Stop saying that. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing."

Ian couldn't help but run his eyes up and down Mickey's body. He was so beautiful. Mickey smiled. "Come on. I don't want the water to get cold." He pulled Ian to his feet and took the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Despite being a bit thinner, Ian's chest was still well defined. Mickey was reminded of the first time he saw Ian naked. He resisted the urge to lean over and lick Ian's chest. Instead he took his shoulders and turned him towards the bathroom. "You'll feel better after a bath."

Ian took a few steps forward and stopped when he heard Mickey's loud gasp.

Mickey was speechless, his hand clamped over his mouth.

Ian's back...

The scars...

He would kill Kash. He would shoot him dead and apologize to Tristan.

Mickey quickly walked forward and stepped in front of Ian. He placed his hands on his shoulders. "Look at me." Ian slowly looked up. "I love you. I will always love you. No matter what. Now, let's take our bath."

Mickey slowly and lovingly washed Ian's body and hair. Ian closed his eyes and relaxed under Mickey's familiar, soothing touch. His submission buzzed as Mickey's dominance grew stronger, wrapping around him. Mickey had purposely been trying to keep his dominance in check, not wanting to overwhelm Ian when he was in such a vulnerable state. But the more Mickey ran his hands over the body he knew so well, the body he considered his property, the more his possessiveness and need to erase Kash's touch grew. Mickey wanted to make love to Ian that night, but he knew he should wait until he had a better understanding of what Ian had been through the past four months. He also wanted to wait until they were back home in their own bed.

Mickey helped Ian out of the tub, dried him off, slathered lotion all over him, dressed him in boxers and a t-shirt from home and settled him in bed. He hurried through his moisturizing routine and was surprised to find Ian still awake when he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Do you need something?"

Ian shook his head, but his eyes were fearful, yet pleading. Mickey turned off the lights and slipped into bed. He wrapped his arms around Ian and held him close. He completely released his dominance, allowing it to wrap tightly around Ian. Ian moaned and snuggled closer to Mickey.

 _My master. My real master._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

As they walked into their New York apartment, both relaxed in a way neither had in four months.

Home.

Together.

Ian swayed slightly as Mickey's dominant energy and essence floated through the apartment and landed on him, layering itself thick and heavy on his skin. He closed his eyes and gratefully inhaled the feeling. The overpowering essence helped settle his dazed and confused mind.

Ian's submission had been struggling to sort itself since Mickey walked into Kash's condo. Ian recognized Mickey as his master, but everything he'd been through had left his mind scarred and his submission confused. Mickey was Ian's master, but where was his collar? Why had he been wearing a cockcage from another master? Why had he been in another master's cage?

Being home and under Mickey's watchful eyes and dominant presence was soothing and welcome, but also overwhelming. Mickey placed his hand on the small of Ian's back to steady him.

"We should take a shower and get you into bed."

Ian nodded obediently and followed Mickey to the bedroom. He was surprised by its messy state. Mickey smiled apologetically. "I had to pack fast." Ian looked around until his eyes landed on the cage. His cage. He walked over to it and ran his hand along the bars. Mickey watched him and jealously remembered the cage he'd seen in Kash's room. How much time did Ian spend inside it? Would he still want to spend time in this cage? Kash's cage was larger. Would Ian think this cage was too small?

Ian was also thinking about Kash's cage. He didn't like that it had been bigger. He loved this one because it was smaller and more confining. He turned to Mickey.

"I missed my cage."

Mickey's heart soared. "I missed you." Mickey paused before continuing. The possessive master in him couldn't help it. "Did you spend a lot of time in his cage?"

Ian looked at the floor. "No. There wasn't a cage on the island. Only in Paris."

"Island?"

"I...we were on an island until...I guess it was a few weeks ago. There wasn't a cage but..."

"But what?" Mickey urged. He was desperate for details.

"Um...he chained me to the bed."

Mickey's eyes grew wide. "For how long?"

Ian realized how it sounded. "No...I mean...at night. Only at night, he chained my ankles to the bed."

Of course. Kash was smart. Chaining Ian to the bed was a way of subtly pushing him towards submission. Bondage fed Ian's submission. Chaining him up at night was a gentle way of pushing him to break. Mickey's insides burned at the thought of Ian being chained to someone else's bed.

He hadn't meant to get into this. Not this soon, but now that they were talking about it, Mickey couldn't control his curiosity. He wanted to know what had happened to his slave.

"Tell me what he did to you." It was a firm command full of demand. Ian dropped to his knees at Mickey's tone, as guilt and fear washed over him. His eyes filled with tears. He'd betrayed his master by submitting to another. And he'd enjoyed what the other master did to him. Mickey was going to hate him.

Mickey sat down on the bed. He hadn't meant to be so forceful. "Come here." Ian crawled over to him and remained on his knees, eyes on the floor. "Look at me." Ian raised his eyes. Mickey could see his tears, fear and...guilt? Why guilt?

"Ian, I promise I will always love you. No matter what. None of this was your fault and no matter what you did or were forced to do...it's okay. There's nothing to forgive. We just need to forget. Now, tell me what happened from the moment you were placed in the van."

Ian took a deep breath and and told Mickey everything starting with the shower at the recovery center, losing his collar, the plane, the island, John, hiding in the woods, Paris, being handcuffed, Maitres, ending with Royce beating up Kash.

He left out everything sexual.

Mickey knew better. "Tell me what Kash did to you."

Ian slowly described the night of his breakdown. The endless cocksucking, the hood, the intense ball weights, the whipping. Mickey watched how Ian's eye's clouded over with deep guilt as he described being whipped.

"Did you enjoy being whipped?"

Ian nodded and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Mickey shook his head. "Don't be sorry. Tell me why you enjoyed it."

"It...was so...punishing and...it made me feel so owned and dominated."

"Did it hurt?"

"At first, yes, but then...then it felt...it felt amazing. So intense and...controlling."

Ian pressed his forehead to the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please...I'm so sorry."

Mickey pulled him up. "I command you to stop apologizing. You're wired to enjoy being punished by a master. It wasn't your fault." Ian nodded, but kept his eyes on the floor.

Mickey waited a moment before asking the next question. He was terrified of the answer.

"Ian...did...did you and Kash...did he...did you have sex?"

Ian vigorously shook his head. "No. He was waiting. Waiting for our claiming day."

Mickey exhaled with relief, but Ian suddenly pressed his forehead to the floor again and began crying.

"Please, please punish me, Mickey. Please. I deserve punishment."

Mickey shook his head. "No. No, Ian. You don't deserve to be punished. This wasn't your fault."

"But I disobeyed you. I submitted to another master. Another master...touched me and...and I served him and...slept in his cage, and just...please...please punish me."

"No. You don't deserve to be punished. You did nothing wrong. It was your submission, Ian. He broke you. He knew you would eventually have no choice but to give in to your natural hunger. He starved you, and I'm really proud of you for fighting back, but you were going to break eventually and it's okay. I understand."

"But I should have fought harder. I never should have submitted to him. You told me to never submit to another master, and I did. Please...please punish me."

"No. Now stop. Let's take a shower."

Mickey pulled Ian to his feet and started undressing him. Ian just stood there feeling guilty and confused. He deserved to be punished. Why wouldn't Mickey punish him? Mickey always punished him for not following the rules.

As the water cascaded down, Mickey pulled Ian close and began kissing him. Softly at first, lip to lip. Gentle and loving. Slowly their kisses grew more urgent and needy. Mickey tangled his fingers in Ian's curls and pressed his mouth harder into his. When he finally allowed Ian up for air, he attached his neck, sucking hard, leaving dark red marks. He whispered to him, "You're mine, Ian. All mine. I love you so much. I missed you so much." Ian melted under Mickey's voice. Mickey still wanted him. Despite everything, his master still wanted him.

Once Ian was tucked into bed, Mickey moisturized and tidied up the apartment before collapsing on the couch to think about Ian's story. He smiled as he imagined the look on Kash's face when he realized Ian was not the Ian he remembered from high school. That had probably been a nasty shock for him, but then Kash waited patiently for nature to take its course. Mickey was grateful for Kash's patience. If he'd been in a hurry he would have simply raped Ian and slapped a collar on him, and then Mickey wouldn't have been able to take him.

A collar.

He needed to collar Ian as soon as possible. It would help Ian, and hopefully provide some protection and buy some time if Monica showed up.

Should he punish Ian?

Mickey wondered if he was making the right decision by denying Ian's request for punishment. He only punished Ian for breaking rules or bad behavior. Yes, Ian had broken a command, but the circumstances were beyond his control. It didn't seem right to punish him.

But then again...

Ian craved being controlled and punishing him was a form of control. Maybe punishing him would help re-establish his balance and strength.

Mickey shook his head. He was tired and thinking too much. He picked up his cell phone. It had been off since he'd left. There were several panicked calls from Quinn asking if he'd heard from Noah. A call from his dad also asking about Noah after receiving a call from Quinn. A call from Kevin and a call from Lip. Mickey listened to Lip's message but didn't call him back. He and Noah had agreed to keep Ian's return a secret until they heard from Tristan and figured out their options. Mickey wasn't sure what he wanted to tell Lip, and he wasn't sure he trusted him.

He decided to call his dad. He was sure his father would not approve of anything that had happened over the past several hours, but he deserved to know what was going on in case someone contacted him.

"Mickey?"

"Hi dad."

"How are you? Is everything okay?"

"Um...yes. Well...kind of. I mean...yes. I have good news. I have Ian."

"What?"

"I have Ian. I got him back."

"How?"

Mickey launched into a rambling explanation of everything that had happened since Noah first showed up at his apartment. Frank listened quietly until Mickey finished.

"How is he?"

"He's broken. He's worse than he was in high school. Kash broke him. He broke him and...he didn't take care of him. He's lost weight. He looks scared, confused and exhausted, and frankly...I'm scared too. I'm scared I don't know how to fix him."

"Sure you do, Mickey. Just take your time and stay true to the nature of your relationship with Ian. Don't hold back. You are his master. He is your slave. Despite the past four months, the bond created between the two of you on your night of confirmation is still in effect because you never released him. Once you re-collar him, I'm sure everything will be fine."

Mickey closed his eyes and nodded, more for himself than anything else. He really needed to believe his father was right.

"Listen, don't tell anyone about Ian. It's best to keep this under wraps until we figure out the next move."

"Noah said the same thing and that's fine with me, but if Michael K signs Ian over to me, won't that be it?"

Frank sighed. "I honestly don't know, Mickey. We're in new territory as far as slave ownership goes. I would assume that's exactly how it works, but who knows. I've learned that the ministry does whatever the hell it wants to do for the right price, and Monica has plenty of money."

Mickey felt a chill of fear run through him. "Y-you don't think Monica would take him again, do you? Can she do that?" Mickey couldn't bear the thought of going through another separation. He made up his mind in that moment that if Monica threatened to take Ian, this time they would run for real.

"I don't know, kiddo. I really don't know. I can barely believe everything you've just told me. This entire thing is insane. Why would Michael K pay Ian's friends to accuse you of abuse? He's friends with Monica. Obviously the two of them agreed for Ian to go to Kash. Why add the abuse allegation? It wasn't necessary. They didn't have to taint you with that. Damn bastards. And why do all this in the first place? I can't believe they did all this just to give Ian to Kash, especially if the kid already had a slave. What the hell is really going?"

Mickey thought about the message from Lip. Maybe he should call him sooner rather than later. Maybe Lip would have answers.

"I don't know, and frankly, I really don't care. I know I should, but I don't. I just wanna focus on Ian. On us. I just wanna get us back to where we were before this nightmare began."

Frank sighed. He had no idea what might happen next, so he decided to keep his fears to himself. After all, he was the one who decided to hire Noah to find Ian. Noah did his job. Now they would just have to manage the consequences.

After promises to be careful and to call everyday, Mickey double checked the door locks, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed. Ian immediately curled his body into Mickey's. Mickey wrapped his arms around him and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Mickey woke up the next morning around 10:00 am. He watched Ian sleep. From the sound of his breathing, Mickey was sure Ian would sleep for several more hours. He quietly crept out of their bedroom and headed for the kitchen. As he peered in the refrigerator and checked the cupboards, he decided that he really needed to go grocery shopping. He wanted to have everything on hand to prepare Ian's favorite foods. Kash hadn't fed him right. He looked too thin.

Mickey sat down at the kitchen table to figure out what to do. He didn't want to leave Ian alone, but he also didn't want to take him out in public. That was too stressful. The airport had been awful. Ian had clung to Mickey with a death grip, his eyes wide and terrified. Despite trying to project more of his slave side, Ian flinched every time Noah looked at him. On the plane Ian practically sat in Mickey's lap, whining when Mickey ordered him to buckle in for take off. Seeing Ian like this conjured up the stories Wes had told Mickey about Ian as a child. Constantly cowering in a state of fear, trying desperately to stay out of his mother's way as she screamed at him for being weak. Mickey entertained murderous thoughts of Monica and Kash before getting back on task. He called Chandler.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Hi. Listen, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"If I text you a grocery list, will you go to the store, pick everything up and bring it to me?"

Chandler was quiet for a moment."Well sure, but...are you okay? Are you ill?"

"Uh...I'm...yeah, I'm not feeling well."

"Okay. I'll leave work early. No problem."

"Thanks."

Seth watched Chandler suspiciously as he placed items in the cart.

"This stuff is for Mickey?"

"Mmm hmm." Chandler nodded as he scanned the cereal aisle for Apple Jacks. Seth narrowed his eyes. Since when does Mickey eat Apple Jacks? It wasn't until they reached the checkout, and Seth watched the items travel down the conveyor belt that he figured it out. His face broke out into a huge smile as his eyes danced.

"He's home!"

Chandler gave him a confused look. "What?"

Seth looked around and lowered his voice. "Ian is back."

"What are you talking about? Ian's not back. What makes you think that?"

"Just look at your list and think about every birthday dinner Mickey has ever prepared for Ian. These are all Ian's favorite foods or the ingredients to make Ian's favorite meals. He's back! He's back and Mickey is cooking for him!"

Chandler shook his head sadly. He knew how much Seth missed Ian. He'd never seen Seth as sad as he'd been during the past four months.

"Seth, hon, we talked about this. I really hope Ian makes it home, but the chances of Mickey getting him back are really slim to none. I hope he comes home, but chances are he won't."

Seth grabbed the grocery bags and smiled at Chandler.

"Let's take Mickey his groceries."

Mickey opened the door when he heard the buzzer. A moment later Chandler and Seth entered.

"Hi!"

"Hi."

They headed straight to the kitchen. Mickey began unpacking.

"Thank you so much for doing this. Let me know how much I owe you."

Seth couldn't control himself. "Where is he?"

"Seth!" Chandler hissed. Mickey froze.

"Where is who?"

"Ian! I know he's back!"

Mickey was shocked. "What...how...what makes you say that?"

"This is all Ian's favorite stuff! These are his favorite foods, or ingredients to make his favorite foods. You're cooking for Ian!"

"Seth! Enough! Mickey, I'm really sorry. I tried to tell him..." Chandler trailed off as he looked at Mickey's expression. Seth started bouncing in place.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Mickey?"

"Mickey?"

Mickey's mind was racing. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but he hated keeping it a secret. He wanted someone to be happy with him. Seth suddenly whooped.

"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Is he okay? Can I talk to him? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Um...he's...he's sleeping."

Chandler's eyes grew huge. "Wait? Are you serious? He's back?"

Seth was now dancing around the kitchen in circles and laughing while Chandler stared at Mickey in total disbelief.

"Yes, but you can't tell anyone. No one can know. No one. Seth? Do you hear me? No one can know Ian's back."

Seth stopped dancing and turned worried. "Why not? How did you get him back? Is he okay?"

Mickey sat down at the kitchen table. He wasn't prepared for this. He thought Chandler and Seth would drop off the groceries and leave. He never knew Seth was so damn observant.

"Um...my dad hired someone to find out where he was, and when we found out, we went and got him."

Chandler looked horrified. "You mean you just took him?"

"Not exactly. Well...someone's working on getting me permission."

"The Ministry?"

"No. Um...a friend. A friend of mine who also knows the person who had Ian."

"So one of your friends knew who had Ian all along and never said anything, but now they're helping you? Who is this friend?"

Mickey put his face in his hands and shook his head. "Look, it's all very complicated and I'd really rather not get into it. Just know that Ian is back, and he's fine, and you can't tell anyone."

Chandler and Seth nodded. Seth started bouncing again.

"Can I see him?"

"He's asleep."

"Oh."

Seth looked so dejected, Mickey felt bad.

"He's been sleep most of the day. Why don't you go see if he's awake."

Seth ran out of the kitchen making Mickey smile.

Until he looked at Chandler.

Shit. Here we go.

Mickey shook his head. "Please don't start."

Chandler smiled. "Okay. Just tell me how Ian's doing."

Mickey quirked an eyebrow in surprise suspicion. "Seriously? You're not going to start in on me about rules, the Ministry, getting arrested for taking a slave, etc, etc, etc.?"

Chandler shook his head. "Nope. I'm glad he's back home and I hope he gets to stay. How is he?"

Mickey felt relieved. He needed someone to talk to.

"He's broken, Chandler. That bastard broke him. I'm not sure how long he was able to fight, but that bastard waited until his submission overpowered his mind and then...he...he did everything but sleep with him. When I got there...Ian was wearing a cockcage."

Chandler felt sick. "I'm sorry, Mickey. I'm so sorry."

"Now I don't know what to do. I'm not sure how to fix him. He asked me to punish him, but I can't do that."

Chandler frowned in confusion. "Why not? That's exactly what you should do."

Mickey was taken aback. "What?"

"Of course you should punish him. You should punish the shit out of him for weeks. Maybe months."

Mickey shook his head. "No. What are you talking about? Ian doesn't deserve to be punished for this. None of this was his fault. I would never punish him for what he's been through."

"You're not punishing him for what he's been through. You're punishing him for submitting to another master."

"But it's not his fault! His submission was going to take over eventually. He couldn't control that!"

"Logically, Mickey, you're making sense, but you're missing the point. Not punishing Ian, is punishing him. He's a sub slave. He craves your dominance and control over him. It's your job as master to punish him. Think about it. He's already confused and thrown off by everything that's happened to him. You need to take control and reassert your dominance over him. I get your logic, but think of it from Ian's point of view. He broke the rules. When he breaks the rules, his master punishes him. For him that's a sign of love. You're giving him what he needs. Put a collar on him and punish the hell out of him."

Mickey sat staring at Chandler with his mouth slightly open. "But...it seems wrong somehow. I punish Ian for breaking my rules. Yes, he broke a rule but...I don't know."

"You told him not to submit to another master and he did. You have to correct that behavior. He needs you to correct that behavior. Don't think of it as punishing him for following his nature. Think of it as fulfilling his expectations of his master. After all he's been through, Mickey, don't you think now is when he needs you to be at your strongest? Your most dominant? Erase what that asshole did to Ian. Re-establish yourself as his master. His only master."

Mickey suddenly felt very turned on.

Maybe Chandler had a point.

x-x-x-x-x

Seth quietly opened the door of the bedroom.

"Ian? Ian?"

He quietly approached the bed. He needed to see Ian in order to believe he was really home. He looked at his sleeping friend and smiled happily. It was true. His best friend was back.

At that moment Ian opened his eyes and looked at Seth. He sat up.

"Seth!"

"Hey!"

Seth tackled him in a tight hug. Ian laughed and returned his embrace.

"I missed you so much, Ian."

"I missed you more."

Seth pulled back and grinned. His face fell slightly as he took in Ian's pale complexion, thinner frame, and missing collar, but he quickly brightened.

"Mickey's going to cook all your favorite foods. Chandler and I went shopping for you."

"Good. I've been hungry." Ian slid out of bed and walked to the bathroom. When he returned, the two settled themselves on the bed across from each other.

"What happened to you? Where have you been all this time? Who were you with? Where's your collar?"

Ian slowly told Seth the entire story. Seth was completely mesmerized. He was especially fascinated by Ian being whipped.

"He whipped you despite not owning you?"

Ian nodded. Seth slowly shook his head in disbelief. "Wow. Does Mickey know?" Ian nodded again. Seth glanced at the door and lowered his voice.

"Tell me the truth...did you enjoy it?"

Ian guiltily nodded. "It was intense."

Seth was surprised, but then he smiled wickedly. "Just imagine if Mickey does it. "

Ian shivered a little. He definitely wanted Mickey to whip him. It might kill him, but at least he'd die happy.

Seth inspected Ian's back and instructed him on how to care for his skin so the scars would disappear completely.

"When is Mickey going to collar you?"

Ian looked down sadly. "I don't know."

Seth frowned in confusion. "What? What's wrong?"

"He won't punish me for submitting to another master. I asked for punishment and he said no."

"Really? Well...punishment is at the discretion of the master. Maybe he's scared you've been through too much."

"All the more reason why I need him. I need to feel his control. I missed him so much."

"Mickey's a really strong dominant, Ian. I'm sure everything will be fine. He'll be bolting you to the fucking table soon enough."

Seth caught Ian up on his life until Chandler called for him. They went out to the living room.

"Ian!" Chandler gave him a warm hug. As he looked Ian up and down and studied his eyes, Chandler hoped Mickey would come to his senses. Ian needed his master.

Chandler and Seth left about 30 minutes later. They promised to keep Ian's return a secret, and Mickey promised Seth they would get together that weekend. As Ian and Seth made plans, Chandler spoke quietly to Mickey.

"Hurry up and collar him. That way, regardless of what happens, his mind will be clear about who owns him. Then punish him until he falls apart. Put him back together, and then destroy him again, Mickey. Trust me. He needs it. He wants it."

Mickey nodded as his cock hardened slightly at the thought of Ian sexually wrecked and writhing at his feet. His mind wandered to memories of their first year together. Ian bound on his knees, chained to the wall, staring at Mickey with nothing but love, desire and want. Possession and training. That first year had been all about Mickey possessing Ian. Making him totally and completely his, and training Ian to serve him.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to revisit the past. Not punishment, but perhaps training.

Retraining and recovery.

They spent most of the day cooking, eating and talking. Mickey did most of the talking, catching Ian up on everything with the show. Opening night was a month away and rehearsals were intense. Mickey felt a tiny bit bad for telling Kevin he was sick and wouldn't be in that week, but he really wanted to focus on Ian.

That evening he sat down with his iPad and browsed jewelry store websites searching for a collar. He would have loved to design something special again, but he wanted to get Ian collard as soon as possible. After sorting through over one hundred designs, he finally decided on a beautiful, and very expensive, gold collar with diamonds from Tiffany's. After deducting his fee, and the cost of the plane tickets and hotel room, Noah had given Mickey the remainder of the money Michael K had paid Kaden and Jake. It was more than enough for an expensive new collar. Ian would finally have the diamonds Mickey had always wanted to give him.

"Ian?"

Ian looked up from his writing book. He was reading through the last lyrics and thoughts he had scribbled down for the musical. Mickey had assured him that Rick had done nothing since he left which made Ian both sad and happy. Sad that Rick felt compelled to abandon their work, but happy that he would still get to write, and hopefully complete the show.

"Tomorrow we will go get your new collar, and tomorrow evening we will have a claiming ceremony. Just you and me."

Ian smiled a wide, bright smile that lit up his entire face and made his eyes twinkle.

"Yes master."

* * *

Tuesday evening Ian knelt on the floor of the living room. He was naked, his hands folded in his lap, his eyes on the floor. His body teemed with anticipation as he waited for Mickey. That morning they had taken a taxi to Tiffany's to pick up Ian's new collar. Mickey was relieved they had the design he wanted in stock and in Ian's size. They were about to leave the store when a pair of slave bracelets caught Mickey's eye. Ian grew excited when Mickey inquired about their cost and asked to see them. He desperately wanted bracelets again in addition to the collar. Now more than ever, he needed the warm, protective feeling of wearing both.

When they arrived back home Mickey locked Ian in his cage so he could prepare for the ceremony. He felt a little strange putting Ian inside while he was still uncollared, but he figured if Kash could break every rule in the book, he could break at least one.

Ian fought the urge to look up when he heard Mickey enter the room. All the lights were off and candles were placed everywhere, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. Mickey walked towards Ian carrying a tray holding the collar and bracelets. He stopped in front of Ian and placed the tray on the table.

"Look at me, my love." Ian looked up and breathed deeply as he took in Mickey's beautiful, naked form. His skin was glowing, almost shimmering in the light. His blue eyes were dark, yet warm with a strong, loving dominance that radiated straight into Ian's submission. Mickey spoke the same words of six years ago.

"I, Mickey Elizabeth Milkovich, being born of the master line and as such endowed with the privileges of masterhood, do hereby claim you, Ian Victor Gallagher, as my slave. I promise to dominate you in the way my nature demands and your nature craves. I promise to care for and protect you with my life. You are mine to love, cherish, use and punish as I see fit. You will accept this claim."

"Master, I, Ian Victor Gallagher, submit myself to you as your obedient slave. I will honor, obey and serve you in complete and total submission as is my duty and sole purpose in life. Your needs and desires are my only concern. It is in service to you that I find joy, peace and happiness. My body belongs to you to use as you wish. I submit to you and no other. I accept your claim."

Mickey quickly locked the collar around Ian's neck followed by the bracelets around each wrist. He didn't feel the need to say anything else.

Ian grew dizzy, his body trembled and his breathing increased, as Mickey's ownership flowed through him, taking over his entire being and re-establishing their full connection. The self-lubricating function of his body was re-activated, and his purr spot suddenly itched to be touched. Ian closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the ground. Mickey gently pulled him back up, and took his face in his hands, kissing him softly.

"You belong to me, and I swear...I promise...I will never, ever let you go. Never again, Ian. Never." Mickey kissed him again, firmer this time. Ian hungrily kissed back, his tongue licking and tasting Mickey's mouth as if it were the first time. They stayed like this for several minutes before Mickey pulled away and stood up quickly leaving Ian on his knees. He grabbed Ian's freshly cut hair and pulled his head back. Ian trembled as he looked in Mickey's eyes. The love was still there, but now it was joined by a fierce look of dark demand.

"I love you, but you have been disobedient. Very, very disobedient. I think it's time for some retraining at least...that's how I prefer to think of it. Recovery and retraining. You may think of it as...punishment."

Ian's mind screamed. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He stared into Mickey's eyes.

"Please punish me, master. I beg for your punishment."

Mickey smiled. "You may regret that." He dropped to his knees and kissed Ian passionately. Yes, he would punish him, but first he needed to feel him. Raw, pure, Ian. Mickey pushed Ian down to the floor, settled between his legs and pressed down into him. Ian's moans were choked and stuttered as Mickey's dominance overwhelmed him. Mickey groaned and pressed down harder. The deep groan he received in response sent him over the edge. Mickey grabbed Ian's legs and pushed them up, putting his ankles almost above his head. He aligned his cock with Ian's ass and pushed forward.

Ian screamed and dug his nails into Mickey's back. He thought his body might literally fall apart as Mickey kept thrusting harder, deeper and with increasing force behind every push. The longer Mickey fucked into him, the more Ian's mind melted in a submissive pool of surrender and acceptance of his master. His true master. His only master.

Mickey came hard and strong, his cum and dominance filling Ian simultaneously, exploding inside his ass and his mind. Mickey collapsed on top of Ian, causing his body to tremble and shake from the combined intensity of everything. They lay there for several minutes before Mickey rolled off of him and stood up.

"On your knees."

Ian opened his eyes and rose to his knees. He stared at Mickey with willing desire. He wanted every single thing Mickey had in store for him. He was ready to suffer for days. Or weeks. If he was lucky it might be months.

Mickey stared at Ian's throbbing cock. Ian had been too overwhelmed to ask for permission, so he remained hard and full. Mickey walked over to the table and picked up a unique cock trainer. Ian shivered when his sneaked a peek at what Mickey was carrying. He'd never seen this one before.

Mickey kneeled down and wrapped his hand around Ian's cock.

"I bought this a long time ago, but we've never used it. I was saving it for a very special rule breaking occurrence. I think this counts."

Ian closed his eyes as Mickey gently worked his cock into the strange cage. It was metal, but unlike other cock trainers, this one was shaped like a small box. Ian's cock softened as Mickey gently forced it inside. Once his cock was locked in, Mickey twisted a small lever at the bottom of the box. Ian was shocked to feel the cage tighten. He gasped as Mickey kept twisting the lever, tightening the cage. He tightened it until Ian was groaning loudly. Mickey locked the lever in place and gave Ian a deep, wet, tongue-filled kiss. Ian's eyes glazed over as his submission boiled and overflowed.

"Can you take it, my love?"

"Yes sir."

Mickey kissed him again before picking up a sack sling.

"I don't want your balls to feel neglected."

Ian moaned as Mickey carefully placed his balls into the tight sack sling. Mickey smiled wickedly. "You know, this actually has electrodes that will allow me to shock you, but I think we'll save that feature for another time." The look on Ian's face was priceless.

"Stand up."

Ian stood up and followed Mickey to the wall. He kneeled on the floor, back to the wall, his legs wide. Mickey locked a spreader bar between his ankles and then bound his wrists behind his back with the heavy iron chains Ian loved. He then attached a chain to the middle of the iron chains and pulled it back, attaching it to a metal bar installed in the wall. Mickey lightly grazed Ian's lips with the head of his cock. Ian's mouth watered.

"Please...may I serve you, sir?"

Mickey nodded and pressed his cock to Ian's lips. Ian licked and sucked, moaning around the cock in his mouth as his own cock pushed and strained inside the torturous cage. His balls were heavy and full, and starting to throb inside the tight sack. Ian focused on sucking Mickey's cock thoroughly until Mickey pulled out of his mouth and stood up.

"I'd like some cookies. Would you like some cookies?"

Ian was too confused to answer. He just stared at Mickey and watched him pick up a set of nipple clamps. Mickey spoke quietly as he slowly placed a tight clamp on Ian's nipple and tightened it before doing the same to the other. Ian wailed. Mickey ignored him.

"I'm going to bake us some cookies. I bet you missed my cookies while you were gone. Did you, my love? Did you miss my cookies?"

Ian nodded almost drunkenly. The piercing pain and pleasure flooding through him was slowly growing unbearable. Mickey ran his hand lovingly down Ian's back before sliding his finger into his ass. "Once I put the cookies in the oven, I'm going to come back and fuck you long and hard until you pass out. Okay?"

Ian nodded. Yes. Anything. Anything his master wanted to do to him. Mickey leaned down and kissed him before heading to the kitchen.

Ian felt like Mickey was gone for days instead of 20 minutes. The cruel bondage fed his submission and shifted him into a new headspace. By the time Mickey returned, Ian was aware of nothing but the desire to be punished and to serve his master. Mickey unlocked the spreader bar and removed the chains, but he left the cage, sling and clamps in place. He steered Ian over to the couch, bent him over the back, kicked his legs apart and ran his finger along Ian's ass crack.

"Who is your master, my love?"

"You sir. Mickey Milkovich is my..." Ian screamed as Mickey viciously slammed into him. Ian hadn't been fucked in months. His ass welcomed the savage onslaught as Mickey brutally fucked into him. With every thrust, Ian was sure the cage, the sling and the clamps tightened, adding to his intense agony and pleasure.

"Who is your master, Ian?"

"You sir."

"Who is your master, Ian?"

"You sir!"

Mickey kept asking and Ian kept screaming until Mickey exploded in his ass, hot, wet and filling. Mickey quickly slid a large butt plug into Ian's hole before hurrying to the kitchen to take the cookies out of the oven. Ian remained bent over the couch until Mickey came back.

"Stand up, Ian."

Ian could barely stand. His cock was in agony, his balls were so heavy, he was starting to think Mickey had attached a weight along with the sling, and his nipples were screaming for relief, but it all felt intensely amazing.

Mickey softly kissed Ian, sucking and licking at his neck while he held him close and whispered to him.

"You are so beautiful and perfect. I love you so much. So very much. Will you submit to me, Ian? To me and only me?"

Ian fell to his knees. "Only you. I will only submit to you."

"But that's not true, is it Ian? You submitted to another."

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me. I'm so sorry."

"I told you. There's nothing to forgive, only to forget. But you must still pay for your disobedience."

Ian's mind swirled in a submissive haze. Yes. He was disobedient. He should be punished. "Please punish me, master."

"Oh, I intend to. You will remain in this bondage for three days, then I'll determine if you deserve to be released. During these three days, you will spend every night in your cage. During the day you may not walk. You will only crawl. You will sit on the floor at all times. It's also important for us to return to our normal routine. You will wake every morning and present yourself on your knees, ready to serve me. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

"Good boy. Now, tell me how you want to be punished. What would you like me to do to you?"

Ian knew what he wanted, but he was scared to ask for it. Scared it would confirm just how much he'd enjoyed having Kash do it.

Mickey watched him closely. He was sure he knew what Ian wanted, but he needed to hear him say it in order to feel truly comfortable doing it.

"Ian, you must always tell me the truth. What do you want?"

Ian licked his lips. He couldn't lie to his master.

"I want you to whip me."

"Why do you want me to whip you?"

"To-to punish me for submitting to another master."

Mickey nodded. "Let's see how you do over the next three days. If you behave, perhaps I'll grant your request. Understand?"

Ian nodded.

Mickey fucked him once more before settling them on the couch to have cookies and milk. Ian's head was swimming in a strange, euphoric state of submission, pain, pleasure and sexual hunger. His cock ached, his balls throbbed and his nipples were sore. His collar felt tight around his neck in a wonderful, controlling way. He lay in Mickey's arms and quietly moaned as Mickey sent him floating over the edge by massaging his purr spot.

When it was time for bed Mickey reluctantly placed Ian in his cage. He'd missed sleeping with him over the past four months, but he put aside his longing in favor of Ian's welfare. Ian needed this harsh bondage and cage time. Mickey could wait.

As Ian slept, his submissive core swirled, shifted and reconnected, slowly sorting itself out.

 _You will obey and submit only to Mickey._

 _What about that other master?_

 _What other master? There is no other master. There never was._

 _Only Mickey._

 _Always Mickey._

* * *

Kash was lying on the couch listening to Tristan's nonstop chatter as he organized books on the bookshelf. Tristan had already cleaned up the broken glass, reorganized the desk and alphabetized the CDs and DVDs. The living room was back in its neat, orderly state. As he alphabetized the books by title, Tristan chatted away about a concert he'd read about that was coming to Paris.

"…and by then you should be well enough to go. When I get done I'll go online and see if I can get tickets. I think they go on sale…"

Kash interrupted him.

"Why did you come back?"

Tristan looked up and then quickly down at the floor. He said nothing.

"Why did you come back, Tristan? Why are you here?"

Tristan's heart skipped a beat and then started beating faster. Why was he asking? Didn't he want him here?

The gash in Kash's head had required several stitches. Three of his ribs were cracked and his face was a bruised mess. His entire body was covered in black, blue and purple bruises. He looked awful and couldn't move without wincing in pain, but there was no severe damage. He would heal.

John had been shocked by the state of the living room when he arrived the next morning, and even more shocked to see Tristan making coffee in the kitchen. He stood there dumbfounded while Tristan hugged him.

"So, are you back?"

Tristan shrugged. "I don't know. I guess…well…for now."

John smiled warmly. "I'm glad. The other one didn't love him. You love him. You're who he needs, even if he doesn't realize it. Maybe now he will."

Tristan finally looked up to meet Kash's sad, pain-filled eyes. Tristan stood up and walked over to the couch. He kneeled down.

"Do you want me to go?"

The pain in Kash's eyes changed to fear. "No! No, I…I want you to stay, but...why did you come back?"

"Because I love you."

Kash shook his head. The pain in his eyes returned. "You shouldn't love me. I don't deserve your love."

Tristan reached over and took his hand. "You're right. You don't."

They sat in silence for a moment before Tristan continued. "Why did you do that to me? Why did you treat me so bad? You threw me away. I didn't deserve that."

Deep guilt clouded Kash's face. "I'm sorry. I…"

"Why, Kash? Why?" Tristan finally unleashed the hurt and anger he'd held inside for six months. "You threw me out like trash! You broke my heart! I was a good slave! I loved you! How could you do that to me?" Tears rolled down Tristan's face.

Kash's voice was filled with anguish. "I'm sorry, Tristan. I'm so sorry. I just…I don't know. I don't have an excuse. I just got so fucked up."

Several moments of silence passed. Kash studied Tristan's face. He was so beautiful. How could he hurt someone so beautiful? What the hell was wrong with him?

Tristan slowly shook his head. "I tried to hate you. I really did. I sat alone in that apartment in New York and tried so hard to hate you. But I couldn't. Even after Royce, I still couldn't hate you."

Kash felt a sick lurch in his stomach at the mention of Royce's name. So, it really was true. He'd known Royce was telling the truth, but a small part of him held out hope that it was a lie.

Realizing what he said, Tristan looked at Kash in alarm. Kash shook his head.

"I already know. The bastard told me. That's how we ended up fighting. It doesn't matter, Tristan. It's my fault, not yours. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put you through all this. I know I don't deserve you, but…I still want you. I still love you. I've always loved you. Please...stay with me. I want you to stay."

Tristan sat silently. Kash grew increasingly nervous as the minutes ticked by. Slaves want and need a master. They want a collar more than anything. Would Tristan really walk away from him? Fear slowly crept up his spine as the silence grew. He couldn't lose Tristan. He deserved to lose him, but he didn't want to lose him. He loved him too much.

Tristan finally met his gaze.

And slowly shook his head.

"You took away my collar. You told me I was ugly and that you never loved me. You released me, put me on a plane to suffer, and then basically kidnapped another slave to replace me. How am I ever supposed to trust you? How am I supposed to know you won't do it again?"

Kash had never felt so desperate before in his life. "Please Tristan. Please. I promise you, I swear, I will never hurt you like that again. Please forgive me. I love you. I need you. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but...please. Please forgive me. Please give me another chance."

Tristan shook his head. "I can't let you hurt me like that again. My heart can't take it. You destroyed me, Kash! You left me to starve! You didn't care!"

"That's not true! I was always thinking of you. Always. I know I fucked up, and what I did was horrible, but...it made me realize just how much I love you. I thought I wanted Ian, but it was you. Always you. Please Tristan. Please. I'll do anything, just...please...please give me a chance."

The magic words Tristan was waiting for.

"I'll stay if you do something for me."

"Anything. Just name it."

"Make your father give Ian back to Mickey. Permanently."

Kash looked surprised then concerned. "I don't know, Tristan. I mean, I promise you I don't want him anymore, but...my father paid a lot of money for him. What you're asking won't be easy."

Tristan stood up. "Neither is getting me back."

"Wait!" Kash grabbed his hand. "Don't go! I'll do it. I'll get him to do it. Just please, don't leave."

Tristan stared into Kash's eyes. "Do you promise?"

"I promise. I swear. Please, don't leave. Stay. Let me reclaim you. Wear my collar again. I promise to spend the rest of my life making everything up to you."

The second set of magic words.

Tristan dropped to his knees and smiled.

"Yes master."

* * *

By the morning of the fourth day, Ian was completely consumed by Mickey focused submission. Gone were all thoughts of Kash, or anything else for that matter. The fact that Mickey had never released him, combined with three, 24-hour, intense days of punishment, had restored Ian's submissive core to full recognition of Mickey as his master.

And the days had been quite intense.

Ian suffered in his bondage and Mickey showed him no mercy. The cockcage and sack sling remained at all times. Mickey removed the nipple clamps at night due to their intensity on such gentle skin, but they remained in place all day. The plug remained at all times as well, except for necessary bathroom removal and fucking. Mickey kept Ian on his knees, locked in the spreader bar, chained to the wall. Even during meal times. This was especially important to Mickey. He was sure Kash hadn't fed him right. Mickey wanted to reestablish Ian's total dependence and trust on him for all of his needs, including food. Mickey cooked all of Ian's favorites and cut them into bite size portions so Ian could lean down and eat like a puppy.

And then there was the fucking.

Mickey didn't use the fucking table or the riding crop or anything else. He wanted Ian to feel nothing but his true master's cock up his slave ass and down his throat.

Mickey preferred bending him over the back of the couch or having him on all fours on the bed. He was ruthless and held nothing back. He wanted Ian to feel every inch of his master's cock. Daily. Hourly if he could get it up. And he never showed an ounce of mercy, always pushing the butt plug back into Ian's red, overworked hole when he was done. Not that Ian wanted mercy.

As they fucked, Mickey would talk to him.

"You are my slave. I own you and I own this beautiful, deep...ugh...so fucking...good...ass."

Ian would moan his agreement. It was all he could manage.

Throughout the day Mickey would order him to serve him. He would press his cock to Ian's lips without warning and Ian would accept and swallow. He loved how forceful Mickey was. Mickey basically fucked his mouth, and Ian was grateful. It cleared away and replaced the memories of his Kash cumfest.

And then there was the whipping.

This was brand new territory for Mickey. He'd discussed it with Chandler in the past, but never really considered doing it because Ian was already so incredibly submissive and responded so well to everything Mickey already did to him. It just didn't seem necessary. But Mickey wanted to give Ian what he asked for. He also wanted to erase and replace what Kash had done.

He asked Chandler for a crash course. He didn't want to harm Ian or make him bleed. Chandler recommended several online articles and instruction videos. He even offered to have Mickey come over and watch him whip Seth. "Of course, Seth and I are at, like...20. You and Ian should be at 2. I'm sure I could hold back." Mickey thanked him, but declined. Chandler was very encouraging. "Trust me, Mickey. Your dominance will take over, but your love for him will automatically adjust your swing. The bond you share will guide your movements so you will do it perfectly and give him exactly what he needs. No more, no less."

Mickey put on his catwoman outfit and led Ian to the wall. Ian's eyes were glazed over with love and pure submission, but his body was trembling. With his cock in the cage, there would be no release, creating an acute, agonizing hell. Before chaining him to the wall, Mickey kissed Ian deeply and looked into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want this punishment?"

Ian was surprised by the question. Mickey never second-guessed, or consulted him on punishments. Punishments were to be accepted, not discussed.

"Yes. Please. Please, sir. Punish me for submitting to him. Erase his strikes and replace them with yours."

That was all Mickey needed to hear.

Mickey jumped when Ian screamed after the first strike, but as Chandler promised, Mickey's dominance took over. With every strike, Mickey felt more in command. He could feel Ian's obedience and surrender rise. Mickey's cock grew hard as his mind raced.

 _Of course you should punish him. He knows he deserves this. He submitted to another master. Punish him for his disobedience and remind him who owns him. Who controls him. Who he serves. Make him never forget who his master is._

Ian's screams turned him the fuck on. They were like a vocal handjob for Mickey's cock. He whipped him effortlessly and took twisted pleasure in the deep red marks covering his back. As Mickey reached the edge of going too far, his love for Ian pulled him back. He dropped the whip and ran to him, quickly unchaining him and turning him around.

"Ian?"

Ian was overwhelmed and intoxicated by the pain, pleasure, intensity and his crushing submission. He collapsed to the floor.

"Thank you, master...thank you."

Mickey was both turned on and a little alarmed. He dropped down and pulled Ian to his knees. He crashed their mouths together and they spent the next five minutes locked in long, wet, passionate kisses.

After applying ointment to Ian's back, it took everything in him to put Ian in his cage for the night. But as he watched Ian immediately relax into a peaceful sleep, he knew he was right to stick to the plan. He also felt relieved. He still knew how to take care of Ian better than anyone.

x-x-x-x-x

As soon as Ian swallowed from Mickey's morning blowjob, Mickey pulled him to his feet and then dropped to his knees to remove the plug, the cockcage and sack sling. Ian's cock immediately stood straight up, hard and erect. Mickey slowly licked up the cock with wide, slow strokes before locking his lips just around the head. Ian's cum flowed from his body in a seemingly never ending rush. Mickey gave up trying to swallow it all. He let the cock fall from his mouth and watched the rest spill on the floor. He quickly stood up and grabbed Ian's shoulders before he fell. They lay down on the bed for a while in silence before Mickey reached over and grabbed a bottle of lube.

Submission followed by strength.

He was about to pour some lube on his fingers to prepare his ass, when Ian reached over and took the bottle. He looked at Mickey for permission and Mickey nodded. Ian sat up and settled himself between Mickey's legs. He squirted lube into his hand and slicked up his cock before squirting more on his fingers. Mickey braced himself. It had been four months.

Ian slowly pushed in one finger, followed a moment later by one more, and then a third. Oh, how he had missed Mickey's moans. He worked his fingers in and out for another minute before Mickey reached down and grabbed his hand. Ian understood. He lined his cock up with Mickey's ass and thrust forward.

Mickey screamed.

Four months.

Ian's deprived cock was like steel as he pushed hard and fast inside Mickey's ass. Mickey kicked his legs up and over his head giving Ian's full access to push harder, further, deeper. Ian pinned Mickey's hands to the bed and thrust in and out with deep groans and growls. He settled in and showed no signs of stopping or slowing down. Mickey had expected this given that Ian's cock had been on cruel lockdown for three days, and he hadn't had sex in four months, but this...Mickey was sure he would be unable to walk afterward, assuming Ian didn't break him in two.

Ian fucked him for a very long time.

By the time he finally came, they were covered in sweat and Mickey's ass was burning with soreness. Ian screamed through his orgasm before collapsing on top of Mickey. Mickey wrapped his arms and legs around Ian's body and massaged his purr spot. Ian's body vibrated softly, lulling them to sleep.

They woke up about an hour later. Time for a shower and late breakfast. As they kissed more than they washed, things felt restored. Normal. Ian helped Mickey make breakfast, and Mickey allowed him to eat at the table. After breakfast they settled on the couch to watch TV shows Mickey had recorded while Ian was gone. They didn't talk much, but it felt nice. Comfortable. Mickey nibbled Ian's shoulder which led to him kissing his neck which led to them making love. Ian moaned under the feel of Mickey pressed heavy and firm against him. They kissed and touched each other and whispered promises of love, desire and eternity.

There in their apartment, locked away from the world, everything felt perfect again.

And when Tristan called the next morning to tell Mickey about Kash's promise, it felt like it might finally stay that way.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chhapter 18**

Michael K smiled and shook Lip's hand.

"Good to see you, Lip. How have you been?"

"I've been...busy."

"I can imagine." Michael gestured to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you a drink?"

Lip shook his head. "No, thank you."

Michael sat down and looked Lip over approvingly. He'd always been jealous of Monica's luck to have a son as bright and level-headed as Lip. Michael loved Kash, but he wished he were more like Lip. Responsible. Accountable. Well behaved.

"So, I understand things with the expansion are going smoothly. Congratulations."

"That's true. Everything has gone very well...thanks in part to you."

Michael looked surprised. "Me? Not at all."

Lip stared directly into his eyes. "Oh, no need to be modest. I know all about the money."

Michael frowned slightly before giving Lip a reassuring smile. "It was a gift. No expectation of payback. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Oh, I think there's plenty for me to worry about."

"Seriously, Lip. There really isn't. I was happy to help."

"My brother is not for sale."

Michael's smile disappeared. "Excuse me?"

"I know all about your arrangement with my mother. You gave her the cash in exchange for Ian, which makes no sense whatsoever because my mother could have financed everything all by herself. She's just a greedy bitch."

Michael stared at Lip for a moment.

"You know what, Lip? I'm going to forget you just said that. As a matter of fact, I'm going to pretend you didn't say it. Instead I'm going to offer you some advice. You have a brilliant mother. She's built an empire that will be all yours one day. Don't screw that up because of misplaced loyalty, or some hero, big brother bullshit. Thanks to me your empire just got a little bit bigger along with your bank account. As for your brother, I can assure you he's fine. Kash isn't the stupid, out of control, horny kid you remember from high school. I'm pleased to say he has surprised us all by growing up and getting his shit together. He and your brother are doing well. You have nothing to worry about. So, I suggest you leave and pretend we never had this meeting, and I promise not to mention it to your mother."

Lip shook his head. "I want Ian back with Mickey and I'm willing to negotiate to make it happen."

"It's too late. Ian has already been claimed by Kash."

"He was claimed by Mickey and you and my mother didn't give a damn, so I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"My son is happy and I'm not going to ruin that. This is a good deal for you and your company. Let it go."

"And what about Ian? Is this a good deal for him, or for Mickey?"

Michael shook his head in amusement. "Lip, your brother is a slave. He'll be fine. Slaves always are. I promise you that he will have a wonderful life with Kash. Kash will spoil him rotten. He's always been in love with Ian. I can assure you that my son will take good care of him."

"No. You don't know my brother. His needs are...unique. Kash will crush him. I want him back with Mickey."

"This has already been settled. Ian is with Kash. It's a done deal."

Lip leaned forward. "I don't think you want me as your enemy."

Michael was unimpressed.

"And I promise you don't want me as yours. Let this go, Lip. Don't ruin a good thing. This is a win-win for everyone involved, including your brother."

"And Mickey?"

"Who cares? I tell ya what? If it makes you feel better, I'll have him cleared of the abuse charges and the records destroyed."

"You can do that?"

"Of course I can. Everyone has a price."

"Including you?"

Michael shook his head. "I've already paid my price, and in doing so I've helped your company. You should be grateful. Look, you and Karen are coming to the party this weekend, right? Kash and Ian will be there. You can see for yourself that your brother is just fine."

Michael stood up. "I have an 11:30 lunch meeting. As a favor to you I'll take care of the abuse allegations right away."

Lip decided to take what he could get. For now. "I want a confirmation letter from the ministry sent to Mickey by the end of the week."

"Fine."

"We're not done discussing Kash releasing Ian. Ian belongs with Mickey."

Michael smiled. "I admire your loyalty, misplaced as it may be. I'll take care of the abuse allegations and we'll call it a deal."

Michael held out his hand. Lip didn't take it.

Karen was waiting for him at their hotel.

"Well?"

"I managed to get him to agree to clear Mickey's name of the abuse charges but..." Lip's shoulders sagged.

"What?"

"He said Kash has already claimed Ian."

"Oh, Lip, no!"

Lip nodded sadly. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I was hoping...dammit!"

They sat in a sad silence for several minutes before Karen spoke. "What now?"

Lip shrugged. "Anna K's big party is this weekend. Kash will be there with Ian. I guess we'll see how he's doing. If he's okay then..." Lip trailed off. He hated the idea of Ian with Kash, even if Kash had gotten his act together. Mickey was better. He was good for Ian. Mickey and Ian belonged together.

"Lip...do you think Mickey knows about Ian? I mean the fact that he's been claimed? He did all that work on the appeal. Maybe you should tell him."

Lip looked thoughtful. "Maybe that's why he hasn't called me back. Shit. He's probably heart broken."

Lip laid back on the bed. Karen lay beside him.

Lip sighed heavily. "Fuck."

* * *

Kash fidgeted nervously as the Lincoln Towncar wound its way through Westerville towards his parent's house.

His head was a mess.

He was scared, nervous and stressed. He hated being back here. He'd tried to get out of attending his mother's party, but she'd been insistent. She hadn't seen him in a long time and both his mother and father wanted to see Ian.

Kash had not told his parents about Tristan's return. He was too scared. He knew his mother would be thrilled because she'd always loved Tristan, but his father was going to have a fit. Kash didn't know all the details, but he was sure his father had paid a lot of money to get Ian. He was going to be pissed.

Then there was his promise to Tristan to get his father to sign Ian over to Mickey. Kash had no idea how he was going to get his father to agree. Adding to his stress was Tristan's shocking refusal to be claimed until Kash's father actually signed the papers and everything was confirmed.

"Tristan, I promise. I'll do everything I can."

"I didn't ask you to do everything you can. I asked you to make it happen. I won't let you claim me until it's done."

"Don't you trust me?"

Tristan narrowed his eyes.

Kash shook his head. "Don't answer that."

As the car pulled into the driveway, Tristan could feel Kash's anxiety.

"Relax, Kash. I have faith in you. I know you can do this."

Kash shook his head. "He's gonna have a fit. He already thinks I'm an immature fuck up. This is just gonna prove him right."

"That's not true. You've been doing a great job with JacqueLeTech, your project is going well, and the fact that you are trying to do the right thing shows real maturity and responsibility. Your father will see that."

"No, he won't. All he'll see is the money I cost him."

The car pulled to a stop in front of the huge home, but Kash made no move to get out. Tristan scooted closer to him and they sat in silence for several minutes. Kash suddenly turned to Tristan.

"How did you meet Mickey?"

Shit.

Tristan had been wondering when Kash would think to ask him about Mickey.

"We met at the grocery store. I was working and Mickey was shopping there."

"You had a job?"

"Of course I had a job. I didn't know when you would kick me out of the apartment. I had to be ready."

"I wasn't going to kick you out. I said you could stay. I would have never kicked you out."

"How was I supposed to trust you? You'd already done it once."

Kash looked at the floor. Guilt. It was a weight that never left him. He looked at Tristan with sad, guilt-ridden eyes.

"Will you ever be able to forgive me?"

Tristan smiled at him. "I already forgave you. I forgave you when I realized I couldn't hate you. My love for you forgave you."

Kash grabbed his hand. "Then accept my collar."

Tristan shook his head. "Not until you keep your promise."

Kash grew frustrated. "But why? Why is it so important to you that Ian be with Mickey? I promise I don't want him. I only want you."

"You promised you would to do this for me."

"I know, and I'm gonna try, but...I don't understand why you care so much."

"Because, I owe Mickey. If it hadn't been for him..." Tristan trailed off.

Kash gave him a curious look. "If it hadn't been for him, what? What did he do?"

"Kash...what did you think would happen to my submission with no master? What did you think I would do?"

Kash's guilt weighed heavier. He said nothing. Tristan continued.

"You sent me that text telling me not to go to free clubs, but how did you expect me to stay away from them? Why do you think Royce was able to...have me? My submission was burning me alive. First the pain of losing my collar, and then the constant, aching, desperate hunger. I had to find a way to avoid the clubs and not get captured by some random master who reminded me of you. Mickey helped me."

Kash felt a twisted anger rising inside him as Tristan's words clicked inside his brain. It was an anger he knew he had no right to have, but it didn't matter. He'd always hated Mickey Milkovich, and now Mickey Milkovich had managed to fuck everyone he'd ever wanted. Past and present.

Tristan read his mind. He quickly clarified.

"We didn't have sex. He wouldn't sleep with me."

"So how did he help you?"

Tristan looked at the floor. "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Kash clenched his fists. "Yes."

"I served him. Every morning and every night. He let me spend the night with him so I could be a near a master. He would lay on top of me and cover me with his dominance, but he was kind and gentle. He's the reason I was able to stay out of the clubs. Mickey saved me."

Kash felt a myriad of emotions, the predominant one being anger. How dare his slave suck another master's dick? But as angry and disgusted as he was, he knew Tristan was right. Any other master would have taken advantage of the situation and raped the hell out of Tristan.

 _That's what your so-called best friend did._

 _You owe Mickey Milkovich._

He owed him for taking Ian, and he owed him for keeping Tristan safe.

He was in debt to fucking Mickey Milkovich.

He opened the car door.

"Come on. Let's go in."

* * *

Miles away from Westerville, in New York City, Ian Gallagher was enjoying the excruciating, electric hell of his favorite new punishment as administered by the master he loved more than anything.

After the three days of bondage, Mickey decided they needed to relax. They spent all day Friday just hanging around the apartment. Ian unpacked the trunk that never made it to him, while Mickey caught him up on all the Hollywood and Broadway gossip. They watched TV, read magazines, slow danced and kissed. That night they made slow, sweet love. So loving and sensuous, that Mickey began to cry silently as he stared into Ian's eyes while slowly rocking into him. Mickey's tears caused tears to pool in Ian's eyes as he felt the incredible warmth and emotion flowing from his master. They both came quietly, their bodies shaking with intense love and passion.

Saturday morning Mickey was thrilled to wake to the sounds of Tom & Jerry floating through the bedroom. His entire being filled with joy at the sight of Ian sitting in bed, an empty cereal bowl in his lap, eyes glued to the TV screen, a small smile across his lips.

Chandler and Seth came over Saturday evening for pizza and wine. As the sounds of piano and guitar floated from the Broadway room, Mickey couldn't help but sigh contentedly. Chandler smiled.

"That sounds great."

"Yeah. I didn't realize just how much I missed the music."

"Not the music. You, sighing like that. It was a happy sigh instead of a depressed one. It's nice to see you happy."

Mickey smiled. "It's nice to be happy. I didn't think I would ever be happy again."

"Forgive me for asking, but have you heard from your friend? The one that's helping you get to keep Ian."

Mickey nodded. "The person who had Ian has agreed to help me get to keep him permanently. Now we have to wait and see how it goes."

Chandler nodded. He had several more questions, but didn't want to ruin Mickey's happy mood.

Mickey closed his eyes and let his head fall back. "Right now I have a more pressing problem."

"What?"

"Rehearsal. I have to go to rehearsal on Monday. I had to claim near death to convince Kevin to let me miss this week. I can't miss anymore rehearsals. The show opens in three weeks."

"So, you'll go to rehearsal. What's the problem?"

"I can't leave Ian here alone and I can't take him with me. I don't know what I'm going to do on Monday."

"Couldn't Finn come over?"

"That would mean telling Rachel and I don't want to do that. Remember, no one is supposed to know he's back. I only told you and Seth because Seth figured it out."

The two sat there thinking as Ian's piano playing floated through the apartment. As he listened Mickey had an idea.

Sunday morning he called Rick. He didn't tell him about Ian right away. Instead he engaged him in conversation about how things were going, what he was working on, and did he still plan to finish the musical.

"Absolutely, but I could never write it without Ian. It just wouldn't work. I'll wait till he's back. I'm confident that you will find a way to get him back."

"Well...actually...if you can keep a secret, I have some news."

Rick agreed to come over and stay with Ian. He had other projects he was working on, but he figured Ian could help. Once he finished, they could start working on the musical again. It meant there was one more person who knew Ian was home, but Mickey felt like he had no choice.

Ian was thrilled. He spent the rest of the day reviewing what they'd written before he left, and trying to think of new ideas.

Mickey was proud of himself for thinking to call Rick, but as he cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, he started to feel a little nervous.

 _Ian knows he's your slave. His submission to you is strong. Yes, Rick's a master, but he doesn't want Ian. You're not even sure he's gay. There's nothing to worry about._

Mickey wiped down the counters and swept the kitchen.

 _Ian submitted to Kash after being locked away with him for four months. His submission was starved and he was mind fucked. What exactly do you think is going to happen in just a few hours?_

Mickey took the trash to the garbage chute in the hall.

 _Ian belongs to you. His submission is yours and yours alone. No, he's probably not 100% recovered, but..._

Mickey stood in the middle of the kitchen. A possessive stirring began to slow boil in the pit of his stomach. His need for control suddenly spiked. He walked into the bedroom. Ian was sitting in the middle of the bed, surrounded by music and writing books. He looked up at Mickey.

Whoa.

Ian scurried off the bed and fell to his knees, forehead to the floor.

"Up on your knees."

Ian rose to his knees, head down, eyes on the floor. Damn. He could feel Mickey's power and control, heavy and strong. Mickey slid his fingers into Ian's hair and spoke very quietly, his voice dripping with command.

"I want to remind you who your submission belongs to. Who your orgasms belong to."

Ian didn't dare look up. He barely breathed. His voice was a whisper. "Yes sir."

"I'm going to let you decide how I should remind you. What would you like?"

Ian licked his lips. "Please whip me, sir."

Mickey smiled. Chandler had warned him about this.

"You know I can't do that. We have to let your back heal. It's too soon."

Ian hung his head lower. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Is there anything else you'd like?"

There was something Ian had been thinking about. He took a deep breath.

"Sir, are there really electrodes on the sack sling?"

Mickey raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, there are."

Ian looked up and smiled shyly.

15 minutes later he was chained to the wall, wincing and releasing small cries and screams every few minutes when Mickey pushed the button to deliver strong, short shocks to his balls. Mickey set the dial to automatically shock him every 30 seconds. He dropped to his knees and took Ian's cock into his mouth, slowly sucking it down before slowly dragging up. He sped up until his head was bobbing up and down as he sucked hard, wet and strong. Ian wailed from the intense sensations coursing through his cock and balls. Mickey could feel Ian nearing his orgasm. He sped up and sucked harder. Ian started to beg.

"Please...ugh...please, sir...may I come?"

Mickey pulled off. "No."

Ian clenched his fists and yelled as a series of shocks rippled through his balls as Mickey sunk his mouth back down his cock.

"Ohhhh...please, sir! Please!"

Mickey pursed his lips and slowly pulled off. "No." He sank back down quickly and bobbed up and down, working the cock in his mouth until Ian was screaming.

"Please! Please! Ohhhh...shit! Please master! Please!"

"No." Mickey changed the setting to shock Ian every 15 seconds and took his cock back into his mouth. He sucked hard for a minute before sliding two fingers into Ian's ass.

Ian fell apart. He screamed and pulled at the chains as his body shook and his cock quivered.

"Master! Master...please! Please! Permission to come! Permission please!"

Mickey stroked the cock with a few more sucks before pulling off. He stood up and took Ian's head tightly between his hands, staring deeply into his eyes.

"You may not come. Not one drop. Your orgasms belong to me. The cum that pours from your body does so only at my discretion."

Ian nodded, his eyes wide, shining and swirling with sexual stress and submission. Mickey leaned in and began kissing him. Ian winced from the electric shocks, while simultaneously moaning into Mickey's mouth. Mickey kept him trapped in long wet kisses for several minutes as he continued sliding his fingers in and out of Ian's ass. He added two more fingers and Ian was sure he was going to break.

Mickey finally turned off the electricity. Ian sagged in relief, but his cock was still rock hard and quivering. Mickey kissed his way down Ian's chest before dropping to his knees to swallow his cock once more. He slid his fingers back into Ian's ass. After two minutes he pulled off and looked up.

"Come, Ian. Come hard."

Ian's orgasm tore through his body. Mickey moaned as he swallowed. The orgasm left Ian completely drained, but Mickey wasn't done with him. He reached up and unchained his wrists, but kept him pressed into the wall. He pressed into him for five minutes before whispering in his ear, "Lift your leg. Wrap it around me." Ian immediately understood. He lifted his leg, adding a slight jump. Mickey caught his leg and pressed him even tighter against the wall for leverage. Ian managed to get his other leg up and around Mickey. Mickey maneuvered until his cock was aligned with Ian's ass. He dipped down slightly and then thrust up hard with a loud grunt. Ian hissed and wrapped his arms tightly around Mickey's neck as Mickey began fucking up into him. He sped up as he found his rhythm, driving his cock into Ian as he slammed him against the wall.

Mickey fucked hard, thrusting strong and deep until his cum flowed hot and thick, shooting into Ian's ass. Ian didn't release his tight grip until Mickey slowly lowered him to the floor. They kissed softly. Lazy, wet kisses. Mickey nuzzled Ian's neck and sucked lightly. Ian moaned. "You. I submit only to you, sir. Only you." Ian's words made Mickey smile and feel better about Monday. Ian was his and his alone.

* * *

"I want you to give back the money."

"What?"

"Give back the money. Tell K you want Ian back. Give him his money back in exchange for Ian."

Monica looked at Lip as if he had three heads.

"Are you insane? I'm not giving Michael anything. We made a deal."

"It was a stupid deal! First of all, you could've financed this expansion by yourself. Why are you being so stingy with your own damn company? Second, this isn't fair. This isn't fair to Ian or Mickey. You tore them apart for no reason. Give Ian back to Mickey."

Monica stood up and walked to the closet. She needed to pack for her trip back to Westerville for Anna K's party.

"Lip, Michael has assured me that Ian is just fine. He's living with Kash in Paris, and he's fine. Let it go."

"You don't know that! You remember what Kash was like..."

"Oh, my God, Lip! Get over it! It's a done deal!"

Lip stared at his mother. For the first time in his life, he didn't like her much.

He stood up. "I guess I'll see you at the party this weekend."

Monica reached out and took Lip's hand.

"Darling, I know you think I'm a monster, but trust me. Ian is fine. He's still my son. Do you really think I would give him to someone who would hurt him? I promise you he's fine. Ian and Kash should have been together in the first place. I never should have agreed to let him be with Mickey, but...well I needed Frank Milkovich's help, and since Ian wanted to be with Mickey, I allowed it. Now things are the way they should be. You'll see. Anna said Kash and Ian are coming from Paris for the party. You'll get to see Ian and talk to him and see how happy he is. He's a slave. Slaves are always happy with their master."

"And if he's unhappy? What will you do then?"

Monica let go of his hand and turned back to the closet. "That won't be the case. Ian will be...is fine."

Lip glared at her. "You keep convincing yourself of that."

He turned and left.

* * *

Monday morning Mickey watched nervously as Rick happily hugged Ian.

"How are you, buddy? Boy have I missed you."

Ian was all happy, bubbling excitement. "I'm good. I'm back home, so I'm good. Great actually. Hey, I spent last night reading over everything and I think we should make a few changes, and I have a new idea for..."

Mickey couldn't help but smile as he watched Ian drag Rick to the Broadway room. Why was he ever worried?

He cleared the kitchen table, checked his bag and prepared to leave.

"Ian?"

Ian came quickly. Mickey looked into his eyes.

"Who is your master, Ian?"

"You sir. Only you. Always you." Mickey nodded and patted Ian's crotch. He had placed him in a new, heavier, tighter cock cage. Ian was grateful. He loved feeling so locked up by his master.

"That's right. I own you. Papers or not, you belong to me. Your submission belongs to me. Never give it to anyone else again."

"Yes sir."

Mickey glanced at his watch. Troy would be waiting. He leaned over and kissed Ian softly.

"I love you."

"I love you."

"Have a good day."

He watched as Ian bounced back to the Broadway room. Rick was lounging against the door frame, watching.

"I promise to take care of him, Mickey. Don't worry."

Mickey nodded, but his eyes were full of worry. Now that he had Ian back, he was scared to let him out of his sight.

"Don't answer the door. If anyone shows up here, call me. Especially if they're from the Ministry. Maybe this is a bad idea. He's only be home a week. I really shouldn't leave him. Maybe..."

"Mickey! Stop! He'll be fine. We will be fine. I promise. I won't let anything happen to him. Now go. I've already bought my ticket and I expect to see Mickey Milkovich on stage, not some understudy. Everything will be fine."

Mickey took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Sorry. I just...I can't lose him again. I can't and I'm scared that the moment the Ministry finds out he's back, they'll send someone to take him and I can't...I can't go through that again."

"I know. I understand. Don't worry. Go. I expect an amazing performance for the cost of my ticket."

Mickey smiled. "I would have gotten you a ticket." Rick waved his hand.

"Broadway shows need every dime they can get. Now go. You're going to be late."

Mickey forced himself to leave the apartment. Troy was waiting downstairs.

"Good to see you, Mickey. I hope you're feeling better?"

"Yes. Thank you." Mickey reminded himself that he needed to pretend he'd been sick.

The further they got from the apartment, the worse Mickey felt. What if the Ministry showed up and forced their way in? Why hadn't he heard from Tristan? Was Tristan okay? What if Kash was punishing him, and not in the good way? What if Kash's father refused to release Ian? Then what?

By the time they reached the theater, Mickey's stomach was twisted in knots and his head was throbbing. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have left Ian. Things were too unsettled and dangerous. He was about to tell Troy to take him back home when he spotted a black limousine parked in front of them. The license plate said Ramken2.

Ramken2. Ramken Industries. Monica.

Mickey's heart stopped. Then he saw someone get out.

Lip.

Mickey jumped out of the car.

"Lip!"

"Mickey!"

Mickey stood in shocked surprise as Lip ran over to him and hugged him.

"Hey! How are you? I've been so worried about you. Are you okay?"

Mickey felt confused and cautious. He still wasn't sure if Lip was friend or foe.

"Um, I'm okay, I guess. How are you?"

"I'm better, but I'm still recovering. Siberia was a bitch. Just like my mother. I don't think I'll ever be able to handle cold weather again."

"What are you doing here?"

"I...I wanted to help you get Ian back, but...I think I might be too late. I'm sorry. I didn't get your messages until I returned. I went to see Michael K, but he said Ian was already claimed by Kash. I did get him to agree to have your name cleared of the abuse charges, but that still doesn't help us with Ian. Before all this happened, I would have thought it would be impossible for us to get him back since he has a collar, but now...after what they did to you, I say fuck the collar. We can still figure something out. We just need to come up with a plan. My brother belongs with you, Mickey. He needs you. You're good for him, and I promise to do everything I can to help you get him back!"

Mickey stood there with his mouth open. He shut it and tried to figure out what to say. Obviously Lip didn't know Ian was back home. Should he tell him? Could he trust him? What if he was really here to get information for his mother and Michael K?

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Mickey. Don't you have rehearsal right now? I was planning to wait until you had a break."

Mickey looked towards the doors of the theater.

"Um, yeah. Uh, Lip..."

"Yes?"

Mickey just stood there. Should he take a chance? He decided to go for it. Cautiously.

"Um...you said Michael K is going to have the abuse allegations cleared?"

"Yes. I told him I want proof by the end of the week."

"But what does Michael K have to do with the charges?"

"I'm sure he paid someone to make them. Probably to make it easier for my mother to take Ian. It wasn't necessary. Parental privilege through a rescind order trumps all. They just wanted to screw you over."

Mickey stared into his eyes. He seemed genuinely upset.

Maybe he was on the level.

"Why did your mother do this? Why did she take Ian away from me?"

"It was a business deal. Ian in exchange for the cash she needed for the expansion into Europe. She's a greedy bitch. She could have financed it herself. I'm so sorry, Mickey. This entire thing is a fucked up mess, but we'll get him back. I promise. I hate Kash. I don't care if he's changed. No one changes that much. He'll crush Ian into nothing. I won't let that happen."

Mickey decided to trust him. He glanced at the theater doors again. He felt horrible, but this was more important.

"Let's go for a ride."

"Lip!"

"Ian!"

The two brothers hugged each other tightly. On the way back to the apartment, Mickey told Lip everything that had happened. Lip was impressed.

"This is why Ian belongs with you. Many masters would have gone into mourning and then gone on the prowl for a new slave."

The four men sat in the living room to talk. Rick eyed Lip suspiciously.

"Where have you been?"

Lip explained about being sent to Siberia. Rick looked dubious. "Your mother sounds crazy." Lip and Ian looked at each, but said nothing.

Mickey looked at Lip hopefully. "Now what?

Lip looked thoughtful. "Well...I guess the showdown will be this weekend. I'll be at the K's party and I guess Kash and Tristan will be there too. I guess we'll gang up on Michael and try to get him to sign the papers."

Ian looked scared. "But...will that be it? Could mom block it?"

Lip frowned. "I don't think so. She basically sold you to him. He can do whatever he wants with you."

Lip's words hung in the air, casting a pall of fear and apprehension in the apartment. Ian scooted closer to Mickey as renewed fear took root inside his brain. He couldn't lose Mickey again. He couldn't go through the heartache, and fear, and terror again, and he definitely couldn't go back to Kash. He wouldn't survive another separation.

Similar thoughts were running through Mickey's head as he wrapped his arm around Ian's waist and stroked his purr spot. If things didn't work out this weekend, they would run.

Mickey reluctantly left to go to the theater. He'd been ignoring his vibrating cell phone. There were five missed calls and three angry texts, all from Kevin. Mickey was sure that any other director would have fired him by now.

That night he and Ian lay in bed, on their sides, staring into each other's eyes. Words weren't necessary.

 _I love you._

 _I love you._

 _You belong to me._

 _And only to you, master._

 _I promise with every fiber of my being, with every breath I take, that I will never, ever, ever, let you go again. Ever._

* * *

"Mom?" Kash looked around the living room nervously.

Tristan took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar, comfortable smell of the K home. He loved this house. The K's had always made him feel welcome. Michael K liked him because he was good for Kash, while Anna simply thought he was the best looking man she'd ever seen. They'd always been loving and kind towards him, but he wondered what they would think of him now after everything with Ian.

"Mom?"

Anna K came down the stairs. "Oh, Kash!" She quickly ran to him, kissed his cheek and threw her arms around him. Kash couldn't help but close his eyes and smile. Despite everything, his mother always loved him.

Anna stood back a bit and looked him over. "You haven't been eating enough. Isn't John still with you? And what on earth happened to your face?"

"Uh, yeah. He's still there. I'm fine mom. Really. It's nothing."

Anna was about to protest when she noticed Tristan.

"Tristan!" Tristan smiled and accepted her warm embrace.

"Hello Anna."

"Oh, Tristan, you look lovely. Always so beautiful. I'm so happy to see you, but..." Anna looked at Kash in confusion. "I thought..." Kash quickly cut her off.

"Is dad home?"

Anna frowned. "No. He's such a workaholic. He's still in New York, but he promised to be back in time for the party."

Kash exhaled. He had at least one more day before he had to face his father. Tristan linked his arm with Anna's.

"Tell me all about the party and show me what you've done since I was last here."

Kash gave him a grateful smile as his mother started in on all the party details, dragging Tristan to the kitchen. Tristan looked back at him fondly. Kash grabbed their bags and headed upstairs to his room.

That night Tristan tried to refuse Kash's sexual advances, but he lost. He'd been trying to hold out until he was collared again, and Kash had actually been trying to wait as well, but they both succumbed to the strong, passion burning between them. Being in Kash's room overwhelmed Tristan's senses. The air felt thick and full of Kash's essence and dominance. It was a smaller, more confined space than the condo, and Tristan felt choked by Kash's presence. He couldn't resist him, especially since he had missed Kash so desperately during their separation.

They made love throughout the night. Tristan drowned over and over from the feel of his former master thrusting hard into his ass, making it clear who he belonged to, collar or not.

As Tristan slept soundly in his arms, Kash worried about tomorrow.

He couldn't lose Tristan. How was he going to pull this off?

* * *

Lip rolled over and felt around the nightstand for his phone. He snatched it up and answered groggily, not bothering to see who was calling.

"Yeah, hello?"

"Lip? Darling, where are you? I thought you and Karen were flying in last night."

"We did. We're at a hotel."

"A hotel? Why on earth would you stay at a hotel? Come home."

"No thanks."

Monica sighed in annoyance. "Honestly, Lip. Come home. You and Karen have no business staying in a hotel when you are five minutes from your home. Check out and come on over. We'll have lunch, rest up and then head to the K party together."

"No thanks. We'll just see you there."

A few moments of silence passed.

"Lip...is this about Ian? Are you really this upset about him and Kash?"

"Nope."

"Then why won't you come home?"

"See you tonight, mother." Lip hung up.

Monica placed her phone on the desk and looked out the window.

She felt strangely alone.

* * *

Mickey sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and thinking. Tristan had sent him a text.

 _Will finally see Kash's father today. Kash is nervous, but determined. I told him about our helping each other. Have you told Ian?_

Mickey thought about this. As a slave, it made sense that Tristan would tell Kash. As a master, Mickey had no obligation to tell Ian anything, but he planned to.

Eventually.

For now his mind was focused on coming up with a plan B in case things didn't work out. If Michael K refused to sign the papers, or Monica tried to interfere, they would run. This time there would be no turning back. He could not, and would not lose Ian again.

Mickey opened a drawer, took out a pad of paper, and began making a list.

They needed to be prepared.

* * *

The next morning Kash woke up and immediately felt sick. He could feel his father's presence in the house.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

He looked over at Tristan. As he watched the rise and fall of his chest, Kash swore to himself that he would never lose Tristan again. If his father refused to give Ian to Mickey, he would find a way to make Tristan stay, even if it meant collaring him against his will.

Kash bent down and kissed Tristan's shoulder, working his way down his arm. Tristan opened his eyes and turned towards him.

"Good morning."

"Good morning. This will probably be the last good thing about today."

Tristan smiled sexily and batted his long eyelashes. "In that case, let me make sure it's a really good morning."

Kash rolled on to his back and Tristan crawled between his legs. He licked and sucked slowly, drawing it out as long as possible until Kash filled his mouth. He swallowed and moved up Kash's body, snuggling into his arms. Kash held him tight.

"I love you so much."

"I know."

Kash gripped Tristan's hand tightly as they headed towards the kitchen. Kash took a deep breath and they walked in.

"Good morning, dear." Anna looked at him nervously and then glanced at Michael.

"Morning."

Michael K looked up from his paper. "Morning Kash. How..."

Michael's eyes landed on Tristan. Tristan moved closer to Kash and waited. Michael narrowed his eyes and stared at Kash. He didn't say a word. He shifted his gaze back to Tristan who stared at the floor.

Kash cleared his throat. "Obviously we need to talk."

Michael's voice was so cold, Tristan was sure he felt cool air blow across his skin.

"I can see that. My study. Now."

Kash turned, still holding Tristan's hand tightly.

"Alone."

Kash dragged Tristan upstairs and into his father's study.

"Kash, your father said alone!"

"I don't care. I want you here. I need you here."

"I don't wanna make this worse."

"You won't. I can't do..."

Michael walked in, slamming the door behind him. His eyes fired lasers at Tristan.

"I said alone."

Kash gripped Tristan's hand. "I want him here. This is as much about him as it is about me."

Michael stared at Kash with barely controlled rage.

"Do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on? Where's Ian?" Michael noticed the fading bruises on Kash's face. "And what the hell happened to your face?"

"Things between Ian and I weren't working out, so I sent him back to Mickey Milkovich. Tristan agreed to forgive me, so..."

Michael sneered. "Things weren't working out?"

Kash wasn't sure how to respond. "Um, no. They weren't, but...I also realized that Tristan is the only one I want. I love him, so..."

"Well isn't that just wonderful, but you forgot something. Ian was not, and is not yours to give. I paid for him and you never collared him, so ownership never transferred to you. He's my property and I intend to keep him."

"Wh-what?"

Michael reached for his cell phone. "I'm calling the Ministry to have him picked up."

Kash snatched the phone from his father. "Wait a minute! What are you talking about?"

His father glared at him. "I'm talking about collecting what's mine! I paid a lot of money for that boy. You can keep Tristan. I really don't care, but I want my property. Now give me my phone!"

Kash jumped back. "No! Wait! That...that doesn't make sense! Why do you want him?"

"Because I paid for him."

"But...what would you do with him?"

Michael smiled wickedly. "Sometimes business deals need a little something extra. Ian might prove helpful. Masters like super submissive slaves."

Tristan gasped and grabbed Kash's arm. "No! Please, Kash..."

Kash shook his head. "No. You can't do that to Ian. Just give him back to Mickey. Sign him over to him and let it go."

"And lose my investment? Just when I thought your business acumen was improving, you say dumb shit like that. Now give me my phone and get out!"

Kash backed up towards the door shaking his head. "No. You can't do this. You can't. Just give him to Mickey, dad. Please? Just give him to Mickey."

Michael walked around his desk and lunged towards Kash. "Gimme my fucking phone!"

"No!"

Tristan thought Michael was about to punch Kash. He jumped in front of him. "No! Stop!"

"Get outta my way!"

"No! Leave him alone!"

"How dare you! Move!" Michael shoved Tristan into the wall. Every master cell in Kash's body caught fire. Possession and ownership burned through his body.

"Don't you fucking touch him!"

"Give me my phone!"

"No!"

Michael lunged towards Kash again. Tristan screamed. "Stop!"

The door suddenly burst open. Anna ran in, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Stop it! Stop it! You're ruining my party day!"

Just like that Michael shifted into protective master mode.

"Oh, beautiful, I'm so sorry. Don't cry." He pulled her to him and held her, kissing her face and speaking lovingly.

"Shh, it's okay darling. Your party will be wonderful. I'm so sorry we upset you."

"Stop fighting with each other! This can wait until tomorrow."

Michael nodded and kissed Anna's cheeks repeatedly. "Yes, yes. Of course, my dear. Come on." Michael turned to glare at Kash and Tristan.

"This conversation is over."

"No it's not!"

Anna tugged Michael's arm. "Please, no more arguing."

Michael allowed Anna to pull him down the hall leaving Kash and Tristan standing in his office. Kash grabbed Tristan's hand and dragged him to his bedroom. He pushed him inside and slammed the door. He started pacing.

"Kash…"

"I know! I know! I told you this wouldn't be easy!" Kash felt desperate and out of control. How had everything turned into such a fucking mess?

Tristan sat down heavily on the bed and watched Kash pacing the floor. Maybe he should call Mickey and warn him that things weren't going well, especially since Michael mentioned calling the Ministry.

Kash suddenly opened a window and threw his father's phone. It landed with a breaking crash on the driveway below. He turned to Kash.

"This is stupid. I can't make him do anything. I never should have promised you I would." Kash pulled Tristan up and pushed him against the wall.

"Kash!"

"Shut up! Enough! I'm the master. You're the slave. I make the rules. Not you. You belong to me. You've always belonged to me."

Tristan shook his head. "No! Not anymore. I'm not staying with you. If you don't make this happen, I'm leaving."

Kash flashed a wicked smile. "Oh, really? And where will you go? What will you do? Mickey doesn't need you anymore. He has Ian." Kash grabbed Tristan's hands and pinned them above his head. "I don't think you're going anywhere."

Tristan tried to pull free but Kash had always been stronger.

"You promised me! You promised!"

"Yeah, well. Things change, don't they."

Kash pressed his body into Tristan. Tristan tried to resist, but it was futile. His body craved Kash, collared or not. His resolve melted as Kash closed his mouth over Tristan's, kissing him hot and passionate. Tristan gave in with a moan. Kash kissed him for several minutes before pushing him to his knees. He took out his cock and shoved it roughly into Tristan's mouth. He grabbed Tristan's hair and wrapped it around his hand to hold his head tight as he fucked his mouth until he pulled out and came all over Tristan's face. He stared down at him for a moment, feeling strangely pleased by the sight of Tristan's brown skin covered in white cum. Kash took off his shirt and cleaned Tristan's face before pulling him to his feet and dragging him to the bed. Tristan stood there feeling dazed and overwhelmed. Kash quickly undressed him and then finished undressing himself. He pushed Tristan down on the bed and lay on top of him. He could feel Tristan's body give in and give itself over to his dominance.

"I love you, and I will claim you as mine."

Tristan said nothing. He couldn't.

* * *

Guests began arriving for Anna K's End of Summer Party around 5:00 pm. By 6:00 pm there was a large gathering of casually, yet stylishly dressed wealthy, drinking cocktails and sneakily eating food from the grand buffet, lest anyone see them actually eat. Kash and Tristan stood inside the doorway to the backyard, freshly showered and dressed in khakis and crisp, clean shirts. Kash's blue, Tristan's pink. Kash wrapped his arm protectively around Tristan's waist. Tristan leaned into him.

He could barely walk.

Or think clearly.

They'd been locked in Kash's room all day.

Tristan had been thoroughly fucked. Both mentally and physically.

Kash's stress, fear and desperation had taken over. He was terrified of losing Tristan, so he screwed his ass and mind all day, preying upon every fear and insecurity a slave could have.

"How come no other master took you while you were in New York? No one wants you but me. No one. Keep refusing me and you'll end up alone."

"That's not true! Even your best friend wanted me!"

"Yeah. To fuck. He didn't wanna claim you. Sure you're beautiful, but you're not special. There are plenty of beautiful slaves in the world. Slaves who are younger and prettier than you. Keep fucking with me and I'll let you go. Then what? You'll end up enslaved by some asshole who will pimp you out to all his friends."

"No I won't!"

"Oh, yes you will!

"You won't really let me go!"

"Try me!"

"Fine!"

Tristan ran for the door. Kash easily stopped him.

And fucked him until he passed out.

Kash held Tristan's hand tightly as they headed towards the bar. Tristan struggled to clear his head and focus. He felt weak and disoriented from Kash's dominance being fucked into him all day. He could not let Kash overpower him. If he didn't get his father to sign the papers, he was leaving.

Right?

Kash ordered a Rum and Coke and handed Tristan a Sprite. He surveyed the crowd of his parent's friends. Why the hell had his mother wanted him back for this? He quickly downed his drink and turned to ask for a refill.

"We need to talk."

He turned around to see Lip Gallagher staring at him in disgust. What the hell was he doing here?

"No we don't. I don't have your brother anymore."

"Did your father agree to sign the papers?"

Kash looked at him in surprise. How did he know about that? "No."

"Tell him I wanna talk to him."

"Tell him yourself." Kash turned back around. Tristan suddenly moved next to Lip.

"If you don't help, I'm leaving."

Kash glared at him. "Come here!"

Tristan's submission burned at the command in Kash's voice, but he fought it back down. "No!"

A few people glanced in their direction.

Kash lowered his voice. "I'm not doing this shit with you. Get over here."

Lip pushed Tristan behind him. "Still raping slaves, I see?"

"I never...look, I can't help you. I tried. Ask him. I tried, but my father's not going for it. He wants to keep Ian."

Lip narrowed his eyes. "Keep him for what?"

"What do you think? Not all businessmen are straight. You figure it out."

Lip felt a little sick. He shook his head. "This mess is all your fault, so you're helping me. Come on."

Lip took hold of Tristan's arm and started steering him through the crowd looking for Michael. Kash angrily followed.

Michael was laughing and chatting with a couple when he spotted the three headed his way. He quickly excused himself and walked towards the house. Lip followed. Michael stopped in the kitchen, turned and hissed at him.

"Not here, not now."

Lip shook his head. "Right here, right now."

Michael seethed. "Upstairs."

As they headed towards the stairs, Monica and Alex walked through the front door. Monica spotted Lip walking up the stairs.

"Lip?"

Lip ignored her. Karen suddenly came down the hall.

"Karen, what's going on?"

Karen smiled sweetly. "Hello Monica." She headed upstairs.

"Karen? Karen!"

Monica turned to Alex. "Go enjoy yourself. I'll meet you shortly." She quickly ran up the stairs and followed Karen into Michael's office. She looked around.

"What's going on? Where's Ian?"

No one answered her.

"Michael, where is my son?"

"Apparently he's in New York with his former master."

"What? How? Why?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm having him picked up by the Ministry and brought here."

Monica looked at Kash. "I thought he was with you!" Kash said nothing.

Monica felt a little panicked. "What the hell is going on?"

Lip glared at her. "Ian is fine. He's with Mickey in New York. I saw him before coming here. He's fine. He's happy. He's where he should be."

Michael shook his head. "No. He should be here. He's my property. I paid for him and I want him."

Monica looked completely confused. "I don't understand. How did he end up back with Mickey?"

Lip shot an evil look at Kash. "Kash changed his mind and decided he didn't want Ian anymore."

Monica looked at Michael. "So...why do you want him?"

"Because I paid for him and I still own him. Kash had no right to give him away."

"But what will you do with him?"

"Not your concern."

Monica looked taken aback. "I suppose that's true...but I'd still like to know what your plans are."

"None of your business."

"Michael, tell me what you plan to do with my son!"

"Relax. I paid a lot of money for him, remember? He's valuable to me. He'll be fine. Slaves always are."

"I need to know what you plan to do with him because I don't understand why you still want him."

Michael smirked. "Are you saying you want him back? That's fine assuming you plan to return my money."

Monica was quiet. Lip exploded. "What's wrong with you? What kind of mother are you? Pay him and get Ian back!"

"Shut up! You don't know what you're saying? Do you have any idea what that would do to..."

"Do to what, mother? Do to your precious cash flow? What about Ian? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Shut up!"

"Give him the money!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

The two started screaming at each other. Kash pleaded with his father.

"Dad...just give him to Mickey. Please? There's no good reason for you to keep him. Just release him to Mickey."

"Not until I get my investment back."

Lip and Monica continued screaming at each other.

"I quit!"

"You can't quit! This is a family company!"

"You're not my family anymore!"

Lip turned to Michael. "I'll make you a deal. You sign Ian over to Mickey and I'll come work for you."

Monica turned pale. "What?"

Lip kept going. "I'll bring clients with me. I guarantee you'll make your money back in one year with the clients I bring in. Release Ian and I'll join your company."

"Lip! What are you doing?"

Lip ignored her. "Well? Do we have a deal?"

Michael looked thoughtful. Monica was about to explode.

"Lip! Stop it! You can't do this!"

Lip continued ignoring her. "Well?"

Michael held out his hand. "Deal."

"Lip!"

Lip didn't shake his hand. Instead, Karen handed him the release papers.

Michael sat down and took out a pen.

Monica grabbed Lip's arm. "You can't do this to me! Don't do this!"

Lip wrenched his arm away. "You did this to yourself!"

"Lip...please...I love you. You're my son."

"So is Ian."

Monica turned angry. "How could you do this to me? After everything I've done for you. Everything I've built for you. You ungrateful..."

"Shut up! I don't care!"

"You won't get away with this! Do you hear me? Those clients you plan to take with you? By the time I'm done, they won't take your calls, emails, texts, nothing! They'll forget you even exist!"

Lip ignored her and watched Michael signing away.

"Michael, how could you do this to me?"

"It's not personal, Monica. Strictly business."

"You will regret this! Do you hear me? Both of you!"

Michael signed the final page and handed the documents to Lip. Lip scanned them quickly and nodded.

"I'd like to start in three weeks."

Michael smiled and nodded. "That's fine."

Lip took Karen's hand and turned to leave. Monica stopped him. For the first time in his life, Lip saw desperation in his mother's eyes.

"Don't do this, Lip. If it means this much to you...I'll...I'll pay to get Ian back. Just...please...don't do this to me."

Lip shook his head. "The sad thing mother, is that Ian doesn't mean enough to you. All you've ever cared about is business. Money. Well, now you can have all of it. I don't want any of it. I'm done."

"Lip, I love you!"

"No, you don't. You don't love me or Ian."

"That's not true! I've always loved you!"

"No! You love that I'm a master. You love that I can successfully run businesses and make money. If I was a slave, would you still love me, or would you have thrown me away like you did Ian?"

Monica opened her mouth to speak but then closed it. She didn't have an answer. Lip shook his head.

"Goodbye mother."

"Lip!"

Lip and Karen left.

Monica turned on Michael. "I will get you for this! Do you hear me? You are going to regret this!"

Michael shook his head. "Come on, Monica. I told you. This isn't personal. Just business. It's always been about business. Let's go downstairs and have a drink."

"Fuck you!" Monica turned and stormed out.

Michael stepped from around his desk. "Well, I'd better get back downstairs. Your mother is probably wondering where I am."

Kash and Tristan were left standing alone in the middle of the office. They had watched everything in stunned silence.

Kash turned to Tristan. "Um...well...it looks like Ian will get to stay with Mickey."

Tristan nodded.

Kash suddenly looked nervous. "I didn't exactly make it happen, but it's done."

Tristan nodded again.

Kash looked into Tristan's eyes. "I'm sorry for earlier today." He sighed heavily. "I just...I can't lose you, Tristan. I can't. I just can't. Please...I just felt so desperate and..."

Tristan leaned over and shut him up with a kiss.

"I love you, and yes...I'll stay."

Kash sighed in relief and smiled. "I love you, too. I really don't deserve you."

Tristan grinned. "No. You don't."

Kash pulled him close and kissed him again.

"Nevertheless...I promise...never again...I'll never let you go."

* * *

Sunday evening Lip and Karen delivered the signed release papers to Mickey. Mickey stared at them in disbelief.

"Are you serious? Are you sure?"

Lip beamed. "Absolutely. Go to the Ministry offices in the morning and have them certified and filed. That's it. It's done. Ian belongs to you. Permanently."

Ian looked worried. "But what about mom?"

"What about her?"

"Could she issued another rescind order?"

Lip shook his head. "No. When she gave you to Michael, she signed away all rights, including the right to issue a rescind order. She handed you over to him completely." Lip paused and closed his eyes for a moment. "I can't believe she did that. Just...gave you away so easily with no concern for your needs. I'm so sorry Ian."

Ian shrugged. It didn't matter. He'd learned his place with his mother years ago. It didn't surprise him, and it didn't matter.

Lip continued. "That forfeiture of rescind rights follows to Mickey. I made sure it was in the release papers. Neither she, nor Michael K can ever try to get you back."

Mickey kept staring at the papers. "But I still don't understand. Why would Michael K agree to this?"

Lip smiled. "Because I agreed to work for him."

"What?"

"I told him I would work for him."

"You're going to work for Michael K?"

"Of course not."

"Huh?"

"I lied."

Mickey and Ian stared at him. "What?"

"I told him I would come work for him and even bring along some clients, but I lied. I'd never work for a criminal asshole like Michael K."

Mickey's heart started racing. "Lip! What happens when you don't go work for him? He's gonna come looking for you!"

"No he won't."

"Why not?"

Karen took out a thumb drive out of her purse and tossed it to Mickey. "Because I downloaded classified files from his computer while we were at the party. It's kinda my thing."

Lip and Karen cracked up laughing while Mickey and Ian stared at them in total confusion.

"Turns out Michael K dabbles in all sorts of interesting projects. Global projects with overseas clients the US government would not approve of. It would be a shame if someone from government...say a certain Congressman from Ohio, decided to open an investigation of K Industries business dealings."

Mickey stared at the thumb drive. "Does he know you have this?"

"Not yet. I wanted to wait until you filed the papers and received the letter clearing you of all charges."

"Oh!" Mickey jumped up and grabbed an envelope from his desk. "It came yesterday."

Lip smiled as he read over the official letter declaring the allegations expunged.

"Excellent." Lip stood up. "Well, we have a flight to catch."

Ian looked sad. "You're going back to Ohio?"

Karen smiled. "No. The Carribbean. Your brother deserves a vacation."

Ian felt better. "What will you do when you get back?"

"Oh, I don't know. There are plenty of companies I could work for, or I might start my own. Who knows. I've made plenty of money. I'll take my time and decide what I want to do for once."

Ian threw himself at his brother, hugging him. "Thank you. Thank you, Coop. Thank you."

Lip held him. "You're welcome. I'm sorry I didn't do more when we were growing up. I should have stood up for you."

After hugs and kisses goodbye, Lip and Karen left. Mickey and Ian sat on the couch and stared at the release papers.

Ian looked at Mickey. "So, it's finally over?"

"Looks like it."

Ian snuggled closer to Mickey. Mickey reached around him and began stroking his purr spot. Ian closed his eyes and began to purr. Mickey closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

Finally.

Peace.

* * *

Monday morning Mickey was at the Ministry offices when the doors opened. He fought the urge to laugh out loud and dance obnoxiously as he watched Perlson scrutinize the release papers before approving their certification. Perlson stared at Mickey with a nasty expression as if he smelled bad. Mickey held his head high and stared right back with a satisfied smile.

"Well Mr. Milkovich, everything seems to be in order."

Mickey reached for the papers. "Thank you." Perlson didn't release them. He leaned forward. "Such a pity. I was looking forward to helping you adjust your attitude. I hope you fuck up one day and give me the satisfaction. Know that I'll be waiting."

Mickey smiled. "Why Perlson...are you threatening me?"

Perlson sat back. "Of course not. The Ministry is dedicated to supporting strong, loving relationships between masters and slaves. Corrective training is only administered when required."

"Sure." Mickey snatched the papers and turned to leave. He stopped and turned back around.

"Perlson, does your jurisdiction extend to Paris?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Routine.

Regular meals.

Nurturing time.

Love.

With all questions of ownership settled, Mickey and Ian fully relaxed and fell back into their normal routine. They were grateful to have their lives back on track. Ian happily served Mickey every morning before Rick arrived to work on the musical, and Mickey left for rehearsal. They spent their weekends hanging out with friends, and their nights making passionate love. Their bond felt stronger and tighter than before. Being forced apart had made them realize just how much they loved and needed one another, and they knew they were lucky. Most masters and slaves, torn apart, were never reunited. They cherished one another with a renewed love and appreciation.

But things weren't perfect.

Ian often had bad dreams.

Several nights a week he relived his removal from Mickey. He could feel the huge man's arms wrapping around his waist, tearing him from Mickey's grasp. He could feel his collar and bracelets being torn from his neck and wrists. He would wake up thrashing around, screaming Mickey's name, his eyes wide and terrified. Mickey would hold him and reassure him that no one would ever take him ever again, as he stroked his purr spot and kissed him softly until he fell back asleep. Ian's dreams broke Mickey's heart. How long would he be haunted by what had happened?

And then there was Ian's renewed fear of masters.

Neither of them were really aware of Ian's fear until their first trip to the grocery store. Initially Ian was excited about finally getting out of the apartment, but as they approached the store he felt increasingly nervous and jumpy. He tightened his grip on Mickey's arm and glued himself to his side. As they walked through the store, he grew increasingly frightened. What if someone tried to take him? Every time a master passed a little too close, he would tense up and dig his nails into Mickey's arm. If a master looked at him a second too long, he started to tremble.

Mickey was surprised.

"Ian...you have nothing to fear. Why are you scared? You're collared and you're wearing bracelets. I'm right here. No one will bother you."

"What if someone tries to take me?"

"No one is going to take you, Ian."

"Kash did."

Mickey burned with anger. He would hate Kash K for the rest of his life. Thanks to Kash, Ian's submission was back to its overpowering strength. Just like their first year together, it would take Mickey's patience, encouragement and training for Ian to regain his strength, and confidence, and the ability to look other masters in the eye. It would take time.

Time Mickey didn't have. Not right now.

With the show starting, Mickey would have review rehearsals in the morning, rest time in the afternoon, and performances at night. The first seven shows were already sold out and as Ian had predicted, the words Mickey Milkovich and Tony for Best Lead Actor in a Musical, were already being thrown around. Assuming the show did as well as everyone expected, the schedule could last for an entire year or more with little time off.

Mickey was full of guilt. He felt like he'd done nothing all year but fail his slave. His father tried to reassure him.

"Come on, kiddo. You're being way too hard on yourself. This entire thing was beyond your control, but you know what, Mickey? You fought it. You fought hard and you won. You didn't let them get away with it. You went after them and got Ian back. That's impressive."

Mickey shook his head. "Not really. I really didn't do anything. Puck did all the hard work, and Lip finished the job. All I did was cry and waste time doing appeal paperwork." And cheat on Ian with another slave.

Frank shook his head. "Not true. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You stayed out of the way, you stayed out of jail, and you never gave up on Ian. And when the time came, you marched right into another master's home and took him back. Trust me, Mickey. That's more than a lot of masters would have done. Don't beat yourself up. In time everything will return to normal, including Ian."

Mickey sighed in resignation. He knew his dad was right, but it didn't make him feel better.

* * *

A few days before opening night, Mickey set up a Skype date with Tristan. They hadn't communicated since Michael K signed the papers. They set the time for midnight in New York, 6:00 am in Paris. Both Ian and Kash would be asleep.

Mickey was a bit stunned when Tristan's smiling face appeared on the screen.

"Hi Mickey!"

Tristan was positively glowing. His smooth brown skin looked silky and bright. He looked fresh and healthy. Mickey was amused by the long, thick ponytails on either side of his head. But what really sparkled was his collar. It was made completely of diamonds. Rather large diamonds. Mickey was sure it cost a fortune.

"Hey Tristan. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful, fabulous and everything in-between." Tristan laughed a genuinely happy laugh that made Mickey smile.

"So, I take it things with Kash are good?"

Tristan's eyes shone with love and submission.

"Yes. Better than good. Things are...I can't describe it. It's like it was before everything happened, but even better than that. I feel his love for me in a way I never felt before. Even on our claiming day. It's as if I finally have all of his love. All of it. His entire heart. And he's finally in a place to accept all the love I have for him. He's determined to make everything up to me. He always spoiled me, but now...now even I have to admit that it's a bit ridiculous." Tristan held up his wrists. On each wrist were several diamond, and silver bracelets. "He gives me gifts constantly. I have so much diamond jewelry, I feel like Elizabeth Taylor."

Mickey laughed. He could see the change in Tristan's eyes. Full submission. It was strong and complete thanks to having a collar again and the care of a master. Mickey was thankful that Tristan was finally being cared for and loved the way he deserved, but he wondered if Kash had punished Tristan for serving him.

"Tristan, you mentioned in one of your texts that you told Kash about our helping each other. How did he take it?"

Tristan's eyes darkened. "He punished me for a week. 5 days for you, 2 days for Royce. A week of brutal bondage. The most brutal bondage and sex he's ever put me through. We even went to Maitres...the fifth floor."

Mickey racked his brain. Maitres? Ian had mentioned eating there. Wasn't it a restaurant?

"What's Maitres?"

"A private club for masters."

"Is the fifth floor the top floor?"

"Yes."

Oh.

Shit.

Everyone knew what the top floor of master's clubs were reserved for.

"Are you okay?"

Tristan smiled and nodded. "Yes. I deserved it. All of it."

Mickey bit his lip and dug his nails into his hand. Okay. That wasn't true. Kash released Tristan. Tristan was free to seek out other masters. He didn't betray or disobey Kash. Everything that happened was Kash's fault, not Tristan's. Mickey decided to leave it alone.

"So, now things are good?"

"Outstanding. How is Ian?"

"He's good. He's working on his musical again. He's mostly recovered."

"Mostly?"

"He has bad dreams and he's scared of masters again, but...for the most part he's great. It just takes time."

Tristan looked sad. "I'm so sorry, Mickey. I'm sorry Kash caused so much pain...for all of us. I promise you he's better and will never bother you again. We're going to stay in Paris permanently. We're moving to a new place, and Kash's father is giving him JacqueLeTech. It will be its own, stand alone company, solely owned by Kash. No ties to his father's company or interests. He's excited and we're happy. Really happy. Everything is going to be fine from now on."

Tristan's bright smile and strong conviction made Mickey believe him. "Okay. That sounds perfect. Just...take care of yourself, Tristan, and if you ever need me..."

Tristan nodded. "I know. Thank you. For everything, Mickey. And break a leg opening night. I wish I could be there. I know you're going to be amazing."

After a final goodbye, Tristan closed the lid of his laptop and climbed the stairs to the bedroom. He removed his clothes, pulled his hair loose, and slipped into bed. Kash rolled over and threw his arm over him, pulling him close.

"Mmm...where did you go?"

Tristan couldn't lie. "To talk to Mickey."

Kash's eyes flew open. "What? Why?"

"I wanted him to know I'm okay. That we're okay. And I wanted to check on Ian."

Kash relaxed and reached over to caress Tristan's hair. "So...how is he?"

"He's fine." Tristan wasn't going to feed Kash's guilt.

Kash stared into his eyes. "And you and me...how are we doing?"

Tristan smiled. "We're perfect, master. Simply perfect."

* * *

Mickey didn't consider himself superstitious, but he did have certain rituals for the day before and the day of opening night. They mostly involved fucking away his nerves in Ian's ass.

Something Ian was looking forward to.

They were sitting in the living room watching TV. During a commercial break, Ian's eyes wandered over to the fucking table. They hadn't used it since his return.

"Sir?" Ian looked at Mickey with big, gorgeous, puppy dog eyes. Mickey sighed.

"Yes, cutest slave ever?"

"When are we going to use that?" Ian nodded towards the table.

"Oh...I suppose we'll use it to prepare for opening night. Is that okay?"

Ian nodded enthusiastically.

"Ian...are you...do you feel up to our normal opening night routine?"

Ian looked at him in confusion. Since when did Mickey ask something like that?

"Of course. It would be bad luck to change our routine."

"I know. I just...with everything that's happened, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I accept any and everything my master wants of me. The decision is always his, not mine. I submit, accept and obey every command of my master. I am his to do with as he wishes. I live to serve and fulfill his needs. Indulging him, indulges me."

Mickey's cock grew hard at Ian's words. He recognized them. It was an old slave creed that used to be taught to slaves on their 18th birthday.

Ian reached for Mickey's hand. "I look forward to helping you get ready to give a Tony award winning performance. Not that you need my help. You'll be amazing no matter what."

Mickey nodded. "I look forward to enjoying your ass."

Ian smiled a slow, sexy smile that made Mickey want to jump him right then and there, but there was something he wanted to take care of.

"I need to tell you something."

Ian's expression changed to concern from the seriousness in Mickey's voice.

"Yes sir?"

Mickey sighed heavily. He wasn't sure how Ian would take what he was about to say. He hated the idea of hurting him. Sure, masters could do whatever they wanted and their slaves had no say, but Mickey had never been that type of master. He loved Ian and he'd always been faithful to him. Up until a few months ago.

"Um...while you were gone...for the first time ever I struggled with my need to dominate. I've never had that problem. At least not since high school. I've always had you. But...while you were gone...things...things were hard."

Ian nodded understandingly. "Did you go to a free club?"

Mickey was shocked. "What? A free...no! No, Ian! No! I would never...how could you ask me that?"

"You look so serious and guilty."

"I am guilty, but not of that. I never went to a free club. I would never do that. Those places are horrible."

They sat in silence for a moment before Mickey started again.

"I didn't go to a free club, but I did...I was with someone."

"Who?"

"Tristan."

"Tristan?" Ian was surprised.

"Yeah. We met, and...we became friends. We didn't know who each other was. I didn't learn he was Kash's slave until right before we came to get you, and he didn't know Kash had you. It was purely coincidence."

Ian was silent. When he finally spoke, it was with a very quiet voice and sad eyes.

"Did he serve you?"

"Yes."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Yes. I mean no! Not sex. Just...he would sleep next to me at night. Being near a master makes it easier for a slave to sleep."

"Yes, I know that, sir."

Mickey leaned back a bit. Well damn.

Ian looked sad and...mad? No. Disappointed? Yes, disappointed and something else. Mickey felt awful.

"Why Tristan?"

"Why Tristan?" repeated Mickey.

"Yeah. Why him? Why not some other slave."

"Um...it just happened. We just happened to meet. I mean, in the end, I'm glad we met. It made finding you easier."

"Why did it take so long for you to find me?"

Mickey was a little thrown off by the question.

"Well, we didn't know where to start. Once we found out you weren't with your mother, it was like you disappeared into thin air. It took Puck awhile to gather clues and put it all together."

"And while Puck was putting it all together, Tristan was serving you?"

Mickey frowned. "No...that's...that's not what happened. I mean...Tristan and I were just friends at first. Nothing happened until later."

"And then you became more than just friends?"

"No! I mean...when you say it like that it sounds like we had a relationship."

"Didn't you?"

"No! We were just friends helping each other survive. That's all. Nothing more. I don't love Tristan. I never loved him. I only love you. Always you."

Ian stared at Mickey with the strangest expression. An expression Mickey had never seen before.

"Did Tristan love you?"

"He loves Kash just like I love you. We just...used each other."

"You would never just use a slave."

Mickey felt thoroughly confused by Ian's strange expression and reaction. He felt like he was missing something.

"Okay. Poor choice of words. Not use. Help. We helped each other survive. That's all. Do you understand?"

Ian shrugged.

Mickey felt exasperated. "Ian, why are you upset about this? You and I were both put in situations where we had to do what we could to survive."

"You had a choice. I didn't."

Mickey was speechless. He had no idea how to respond. It had never dawned on him that Ian would be upset about Tristan. The arrogance of masters.

And then it all became crystal clear.

"You're my master. Not his. Mine."

"Of course I'm your master, Ian."

"I don't wanna share you."

"You don't have to..." Suddenly Mickey understood Ian's strange expression.

Jealousy.

He'd never seen Ian jealous before. Of course, he'd never given him a reason to be jealous.

"Ian, my involvement with Tristan was just a one time thing born of this summer's nightmare. You have no reason to be jealous. I love you. I want you. Only you. You are my slave. My beautiful, wonderful, sexy ass, amazing endurance, can take everything I dish out and more, obedient, beautifully submissive slave. Mine. And I am your master."

As he spoke, Mickey flipped Ian on his back and climbed on top of him. Ian closed his eyes and gave himself over to Mickey's powerful dominance. Mickey bit and sucked Ian's neck, leaving dark red marks and tiny bites. He worked his way down Ian's chest before working his way back up to bring their mouths together in a hot, demanding kiss. He hovered over Ian and stared into his eyes.

"I only love you, Ian. Only you. You are the only slave I will ever want."

Ian nodded. "I just...I missed you so much. I struggled so hard waiting for you to come find me."

"I know, my love. Please don't think our separation was easy for me. Just ask Seth. I was paralyzed for weeks. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep. I didn't even shower."

Ian arched an eyebrow. "You didn't shower?"

Mickey smiled. "That should tell you something."

"It does. It definitely does."

Mickey laughed and kissed him again before turning serious. "Do you understand, now?" Ian nodded. "Do you forgive me?" Ian smiled.

"There's nothing to forgive. Only to forget."

* * *

Mickey came home at Noon the day before the show opening. He sent Rick home, removed Ian's cock cage, ordered him to take a shower in the small bathroom, and to then go to his cage. Ian eagerly obeyed. He could feel Mickey's tension along with his control and sexual lust. It was strong, hot and hungry.

Ian waited anxiously in his cage while Mickey took a long shower. He couldn't wait for Mickey to fuck him. They'd only been making love since their bondage sessions. While he loved the gentle sweetness of their lovemaking, his body was craving the consuming dominance of Mickey's cock slamming into him. Capturing him and making it clear who he belonged to. He was also hungry for more bondage and punishment.

Mickey emerged from the bathroom smelling fresh, clean, and purely Mickey. Ian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He loved Mickey's smell. He opened his eyes and watched Mickey comb his hair into sexy spikes. Mickey removed his towel and Ian stared at his perfect, tight, peachy pale ass. He trailed his eyes down Mickey's legs. They were strong and muscular from years of dance. Mickey turned around and Ian quickly lowered his eyes. Mickey's dominance rose as he stared at his beautiful Ian. Ian's overwhelming submission and obedience was so intoxicating. Mickey planned to devour him. He walked over to the cage and unlocked the door.

"Crawl to the living room."

Mickey had moved the fucking table to the center of the room. Ian released a small moan when he saw it. His cock hardened to the point of being painful. Mickey smiled.

"Up, Ian. Hands behind your back."

Ian quickly stood up and placed his hands behind his back. Mickey bound his wrists with heavy iron shackles. He also bound his forearms with a tight, leather armbinder and led him to the table. He gently kissed along the back of Ian's neck and whispered in his ear.

"Will you submit to your master, Ian? Will you submit to my demands?"

"Yes sir. Always sir."

"Good boy. You will not come. Do you understand?"

Ian's voice trembled. "Yes sir."

Instead of having Ian climb on top of the table, Mickey pushed him down so he was bent at the waist, his head and chest resting on the table. Ian turned his head to the side as Mickey locked a wide, iron bar across his neck. It was so tight, he couldn't move his head. Mickey kicked his feet wide apart and shackled each ankle to the legs of the table. He also bound Ian's calves as well. Ian groaned. He was completely bound to the table and unable to move. His ass was dripping wet, ready for Mickey's cock.

But Mickey had other ideas.

Ian was surprised when Mickey slid a tight cockring on to his achingly hard cock. Not coming was something Ian was always expected to control with sheer will power and submission. Mickey carefully wrapped rope around his cock and tied each end to the table. Ian was now groaning loudly. His cock was in agony and the need to come was burning hotter and stronger. He fell deeper and deeper into his submission as he struggled to maintain control of his orgasm.

Mickey hung a heavy ball weight from Ian's balls, causing Ian to let forth a moaning scream as his body shook. Mickey took out a ball gag and placed it in Ian's mouth, locking it behind his head.

"I love listening to you scream, but we have so much further to go. I don't want you to lose your voice."

There was more?

Ian squealed around the ball gag as Mickey slid three fingers into his ass. He worked Ian loose for just a moment before sliding his fingers out and gently placing small, soft kisses all the way up Ian's back.

"Now that I know how much you enjoy electricity, I thought I'd indulge you since you've been such a good boy."

Ian could feel a butt plug being slowly pushed into his ass. Ohhh...it felt so good to finally be full, but the plug felt different from the ones Mickey usually used. It was tight and filling, but felt cooler...smoother...like...

Ian's body twitched and convulsed violently as he desperately screamed around the gag.

It was an electric butt plug.

The strong, hot waves pulsed through his ass at a steady rate, gently fluttering against his prostate. Ian kept screaming around the gag. He was going to come. The cockring didn't matter. He was sure his entire body was going to shatter into tiny pieces.

Mickey removed the ball gag and Ian screamed. He was breathing hard and sweating. It was all too much. He needed to come. He had to come. He would die if he didn't come.

And then the whip cut across his back.

Ian's screams filled the apartment. He alternated between loud, wailing screams, to cries of frenzied pleading. Tears rolled down his face as his mind broke. The pleasure was too much. The pain was too much. He was floating aimlessly, completely lost in a haze of intense, erotic, sensations racing through his body until Mickey's demanding voice brought him back.

"Ian...Ian, my love...are you enjoying your master's use of your body?"

"Yes...yes...always. Please...master...more...more..."

"You may not come, Ian. Will you come without permission?"

Ian answered with a scream.

Mickey whipped him for a few more minutes before stopping to remove the cockring, but he didn't give Ian permission to come. Ian wasn't sure if the cockring being removed was relief or just more torture, especially when Mickey removed the butt plug and replaced it with his cock.

Mickey was unforgiving. He pounded Ian's ass until he exploded with a high pitched scream. Ian couldn't take anymore. Mickey's scream pushed him over the edge and his cock shot hot bursts of cum on to the floor.

"When I finally release you, you will clean the floor with your tongue."

"Y-yes...sir."

"But you don't have to worry about that for while. Since you have disobeyed me, I have no choice but to keep you here all day. I'm going to keep your ass full all day. Between my cock and the electric plug, you are going to spend the entire day being fucked, my love."

"Y-yes...sir."

Hours later they lay in bed, showered, fed and exhausted. Ian's ass was wrecked. He couldn't walk and could barely keep his eyes open, but he felt fantastic. And reassured. Mickey loved him and only him. No one else. No one else got to enjoy Mickey's delicious, brutal punishments. Only him.

As they lay in bed, Mickey thought about their Tristan conversation. He felt a little silly for never thinking of it before. For as possessive and protective as he felt about Ian, Ian felt the same way about him. Master and slave titles aside, more than anything, they loved each other and belonged to one another. Yes, Mickey was in charge, but that didn't mean Ian's feelings for him weren't as strong and as powerful as his feelings for Ian. Of course Ian would be hurt and jealous. Slaves wanted and needed to be claimed. Another slave in the picture was a threat. Mickey shook his head. Why hadn't he ever thought of that?

He stroked Ian's hair and watched him sleep.

"Don't worry, Ian. You are the only one for me. I love you and no one else. No one but you."

* * *

 **OPENING NIGHT**

Mickey woke up excited and nervous. Tonight was it. All of his months of hard work would come down to tonight's performance. His performance needed to be beyond outstanding. He had to be incredible. Initial reviews of the show needed to be strong and positively glowing in order to ensure a successful run. The first seven shows being sold out was a great start, but Mickey wanted to make sure their good luck continued.

He and Ian spent the day relaxing, answering break a leg calls, emails and texts, and discussing the opening night after party at The Celestial. Ian sat on the bed and watched Mickey lay out their outfits for the evening.

"Oh, no!" Mickey smacked his forehead.

"What?"

"I have to be at the theater at 5:00 pm. Rick's not coming to pick you up until 7:00 pm. You'll be here alone."

Ian laughed. "It's okay, sir. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I need to start getting used to it. With the show finally starting, you're going to be gone a lot. I'll be alone most evenings and nights."

Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he have forgotten this? Sure, Ian had stayed alone in the past, but with everything that had happened, Mickey didn't want him alone.

"Let me get through tonight and I'll figure something out. Maybe you could switch between going to Chandler's and Rachel's. Or maybe Finn could come stay with you. I think Rachel's show doesn't open for awhile."

Ian shook his head. "I don't need a babysitter. I'll be fine."

Mickey let it go. He couldn't worry about it right now. He needed to focus on tonight.

It took Mickey forever to actually leave the apartment. He was supposed to be at the theater by 5:00 pm, but he really hated to leave Ian.

"Don't leave until Rick arrives. If you need to call me, then call me. Maybe I should see if Chandler can..."

Ian leaned over and kissed him. "Sir, please stop. You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing. I'm fine. I'll be fine. I'm going to take a shower, rest and then get dressed. I won't leave until Rick arrives. I promise."

Mickey was about to protest when his cell phone rang. Troy.

"Hey, you really need to come on if we're going to get there by 5:00 pm."

"Sorry, sorry. I'm coming." Mickey hung up and looked into Ian's eyes.

"Your submission is mine and mine alone. You have no reason to fear anyone because you clearly belong to me, and I love you."

Ian nodded. "I love you too. Break a leg."

Mickey kissed him and reluctantly left. Ian stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, listening to the silence. It was the first time he'd been totally and completely alone in a very long time. Even when he was with Kash, he was never completely alone despite feeling lonelier than ever before in his life.

He walked into the Broadway Room and sat down at the piano. He played for awhile, eyes closed, feeling the music drift over and into him. Music was always his second safe place. Mickey's arms were first.

He made a sandwich, ate, showered and got dressed. He had just finished combing and gelling his hair into place when the buzzer sounded. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever answered the door himself.

"Yes?"

"Hey, it's me. You ready?"

"Yeah. I'll be right down."

Rick was standing at the bottom of the steps wearing a strange purple suit with a very loud, yellow tie. Ian smiled. He and Mickey loved to debate Rick's sexuality. Rick had never said, and Ian had never asked. Kevin told Mickey he thought Rick was gay. Mickey refused to believe this given his fashion choices. Like the one for this evening.

"You look great, Ian. Very dapper."

"Thanks. You look...colorful."

Rick laughed.

* * *

The show was amazing.

The standing ovation was long and loud.

Ian felt so proud, he couldn't help the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Despite the worst months of their lives, Mickey had managed to prepare for, and give an award winning performance. Even Brad was outstanding. The audience buzz was energetic and positive. Frank beamed as a few people who knew he was Mickey's dad, stopped to congratulate him. Even Rachel was all compliments and praise.

After a quick visit backstage to give kisses and hugs of congratulations, everyone headed to The Celestial for the after party. Ian stayed close to Seth and Chandler since Rick had disappeared to speak with someone he spotted. Ian wearily eyed the other masters in the room. Several approached him to sing praises about Mickey. Ian struggled to smile and nod, and control the fear bubbling inside him. _They don't want you. You belong to Mickey, and they know that. It's fine_. Frank could see his stress. He walked over and gently placed a hand on Ian's shoulder.

"You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah. Just...I get nervous."

Frank nodded. "Understandable. It's okay. You're safe. I promise."

Ian nodded and smiled. Carol came hurrying over, a huge smile on her face.

"Guess who's here?"

"Who?"

Carol stepped aside to reveal Quinn and Noah headed their way. Quinn looked absolutely fabulous in a sexy, black dress and high heels. Noah looked very handsome in an Italian cut suit. He also looked very submissive.

"Ian!" Quinn rushed towards him and threw her arms around his neck. Ian was totally caught off guard. He froze, but Quinn didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, Ian. I'm so happy to see you. I know its been awhile, but I feel like you've been an important part of my life these past few months. I'm so glad you're home."

Ian nodded and tried to remember what Mickey had told him about Quinn helping to get him, but he was more intrigued with Noah. He'd never seen him look so submissive. He was standing close to Quinn, holding her hand. He gave Ian a quick smile and nod which Ian returned. He was grateful when Carol quietly asked Frank exactly what Ian had been wondering.

"Noah's a half stain, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, him and Quinn...how does that work?"

"Well, Quinn doesn't seem to mind. Noah is mostly submissive when he's with her, but when his dominance flares up, it doesn't set her off. She says she actually likes the challenge. They've agreed to go slow and see where it leads."

"Do they want Beth back?"

"No. They would never uproot her life like that. Assuming it all works out, Beth will stay with Shelby and they'll just continue to visit."

Suddenly there was loud yelling and applauding as the cast of the show arrived. Mickey made his way straight to Ian.

"Hi sir."

"Hello. Are you okay?"

Ian smiled. "I'm fine."

The party grew loud and boisterous as everyone enjoyed the bar and the buffet. Ian stayed close to Mickey, smiling, laughing, and talking. It felt like old times. Normal. Natural. The way things should be.

Later in the evening, a journalist for an online Broadway show review site asked Mickey if she could have a few minutes to ask him a few questions. Mickey's mood was so good that he agreed instead of being annoyed at her for interrupting the party. Ian decided to get some air. Mickey asked Rick to go with him.

Once outside, Ian took several deep breaths. He felt great. He was so proud of Mickey and so glad he was home. He never wanted to leave home again.

"Ian?"

Ian turned around.

Kayden.

He looked very handsome in a classic black suit, but he was visibly nervous and his eyes were sad and frightened.

"What are you doing here?"

"Um...I...I went to the show. I wanted to see it. I heard you talk about it for so long..." He trailed off and stared at the ground. Ian glared at him.

"Well, that was nice of you. I suppose it was the least you could do."

Tears slowly rolled down Kayden's cheeks. "I...Ian...I'm s-sorry. I'm so sorry. He tricked me. No...that's not true. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. I never thought they would really take you away. Everyone knows how much Mickey loves you. I thought...I thought it would all go away, and he would claim me and...I'm sorry, Ian. I'm so sorry."

Ian just looked at him. What was he supposed to say?

Rick stepped forward with a bright green handkerchief. "Here. Stop crying." Instead of just giving the handkerchief to Kayden, Rick started gently dabbing at his cheeks and around his eyes. Their eyes met and locked. They stood there, staring at each other. Finally Rick exhaled a breathy, "Hi." Kayden blinked. "Hi."

Ian stared at them. He had a feeling he was watching love at first sight. The way they stared at each other reminded him of the first time Chandler and Seth laid eyes on each other.

The three stood there in silence, Kayden and Rick still staring into each other's eyes until Mickey came out.

"There you are! I was looking for..." Mickey stopped when he spotted Kayden.

And lost it.

"You! How dare you! What the hell are you doing here?"

The spell was broken and Kayden looked at Mickey. "Oh...I...Hi. Um...I came to see the show...and...I wanted to apologize to Ian...and to you."

"Apologize? You want to apologize for betraying us? For betraying, Ian? He was your friend! He was always worried about you, and this is how you repay him?"

Kayden started crying again. "I..I'm s-sorry. Please...I..."

"How dare you show up here after what you did!"

Ian laid a hand on Mickey's arm. "Sir...please, it's okay."

"No it isn't!"

Rick stepped back from Kayden. "What exactly did you do?"

Kayden was now sobbing too hard to speak. Mickey was happy to answer.

"He sold us out! He's the one that went to the Ministry! He's the one that told them I was an abuser! He's an asshole!"

Rick looked at Kayden in surprise that slowly morphed into disappointment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't...he made..." Kayden turned and ran.

Ian called after him but he kept running. Rick stood there looking like he'd just been punched. Mickey was still angry. "Let him go. I don't ever want to see him again. I can't believe he came here. Come on."

Ian slowly turned and followed Mickey back inside.

Rick just stood there, staring in the direction Kayden ran.

* * *

The next morning, Mickey and Ian lay in bed and read the rave reviews. It was official. The show was a smash success.

Mickey closed his eyes, laid his head back against the headboard and exhaled. Everything was perfect. He had Ian back. The show was a successful. Tristan was happy. His dad was doing well. Even Quinn and Noah seemed to be making a go of it. Everyone in his world was happy and settled.

"Sir?"

"Hmm?"

"About last night?"

"Hmm?"

"About Kayden..."

Mickey remained in his relaxed state with his eyes closed. "I know. I can't believe he had the nerve to show up there. How did he even know we would be there? I'm sure he wasn't invited."

"Mickey?"

First name usage. Mickey opened his eyes. "What?"

"I think Rick's in love with him."

"What?"

"I think Rick fell in love with Kayden last night. Before you came out they were just staring at each other. Staring like Chandler and Seth stared when we had them over for dinner to meet."

"But...Kayden betrayed you! He's a spineless traitor who sold out someone who cared for him. Rick can do better."

"Maybe, but...I don't know. Maybe Rick would be good for Kayden. Kayden needs someone strong and loving. Someone who won't abuse him. Someone who will take good care of him."

"I'm sorry, but are you forgetting what happened to us because of the lies Kayden told?"

"No, but Kayden has always been weak. He's gone through a lot of heartache and abuse. I'd hate for him to miss out on a good thing just because Rick feels a sense of loyalty to us. Kayden didn't lie about you out of malice. He did it because he was pushed into it. Yes, he should have refused, but...Kayden doesn't have that kind of strength. His past has left him damaged and desperate. Rick would be good for him."

Mickey slowly shook his head. How was it possible that with everything he'd been through, from his heartless mother, to this summer, that Ian still had a heart of love, kindness and forgiveness? He reached over and took Ian's hand.

"Okay. What do you want to do?"

Rick arrived 15 minutes early. Mickey opened the door and took a few steps back simply because of the outfit. Rick was wearing a hideous green and black shirt with red squiggly designs all over it. His pants were a dark green and he had on blue loafers.

"Hi. I know I'm early. Sorry. I was just too nervous to stay home."

Mickey smiled. "No, it's fine. Come on in."

It was two days after the show opening, and Mickey and Ian were hosting lunch for Rick and Kayden to officially meet. It had taken some convincing to get Kayden to agree. He was terrified of Mickey's wrath, but Ian assured him that Mickey was okay. He just needed to get that initial outburst out of his system.

Once he settled Rick in the living room, Mickey walked into the kitchen where Ian was finishing the salad.

"Are we sure Rick's gay?"

"I would think so. He's into Kayden. Why?"

"The clothes. The clothes throw me every time."

Ian laughed.

Kayden arrived right on time looking nervous and terrified. Ian pulled him inside.

"Hi. Relax. Everything's fine."

Kayden grabbed Ian's arm. "I'm so sorry, Ian. I really, really am. I'm so glad you're okay, and I'm just...I'm so sorry. Please...can you forgive me?"

"I already forgave you. Now come on. Rick's a great guy and he won't try to convince you to sell me out."

Kayden's face fell. "Oh, God, Ian."

Ian laughed. "Relax."

The moment they entered the living room, Mickey and Ian ceased to exist. Rick and Kayden locked eyes and it was over.

One month later, Rick claimed Kayden.

* * *

 **PARIS**

Royce parked his car and hopped out. He never used valet. Didn't trust them not to scratch his Maybach or take it for a quick joy ride.

He entered the main doors of Maitres and swiped his access card to enter the actual club. The light remained red.

Denied.

He swiped it again.

Denied.

He did this two more times, growing more and more irritated. Suddenly, Mimi, the club manager, stepped out into the entryway. Behind her was Karl and Hans, two of the security guards.

"Ah, Mimi. Hello beautiful. I'm glad to see you. Something seems to be wrong with my card."

Mimi didn't smile. "No Monsieur. Your membership to the club has been canceled."

"What are you talking about? My membership fee is paid. I pay it in full every January."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. The prorated amount of your fees for this year will be returned."

"Returned? Why? What's going on?"

"Your membership has been revoked."

"What? Why?"

"I can't comment further. You will receive a letter from the club board of directors within the next day or so." Mimi turned to leave. Royce reached out to grab her arm.

"Wait a minute..."

One of the security guards stepped forward and grabbed Royce, practically lifting him off the ground. He effortlessly threw him out the door. Royce sat on the ground in shock for a moment before jumping to his feet. He contemplated going back in, but decided not to risk it. This had to be a mistake. He pulled out his cell phone and called two board members he knew personally. Straight to voicemail. He left messages as he walked to his car.

What was going on?

He ended up having dinner alone in a small cafe down the street. He called several friends to see if they knew what was going on, but reached no one. Where was everybody?

Irritated and alone, he drove around aimlessly until he decided to check out a free club right outside the city. He'd been there before, but it had been awhile.

The moment he walked in he felt better. Yes, this was what he needed. A good fuck to relax him. Maybe several good fucks. Since he hadn't claimed a slave, his dominance was always hungry. His body was always ravenous. It wasn't a healthy state to be in, but he had no interest in settling down. He'd rather feed his hunger with a buffet of beautiful men and the occasional woman.

He sat down at the bar, ordered a drink and turned to watch the dance floor. It was early, so the place wasn't crowded, but there were still about 12 slaves on the dance floor putting on a show for the few masters present. Royce zeroed in on a short, slim slave with curly, black hair. His ass was a perfect, tight bubble shape. Royce's dominance growled. That was exactly what he needed.

He ordered another drink and continued watching the slave dance seductively, switching his hips back and forth and rolling his body. His eyes were closed and he had his arms in the air, losing himself in the music, hoping a master would approach him.

Royce finished his drink. He was about to make his move when he spotted Daniel.

Fuck.

He swung around to face the bar, hoping Daniel didn't see him. Royce had met Daniel at a bar early in the year. Daniel was delicious. Blonde hair, blue eyes, flawless skin and very, very submissive. Royce screwed around with him for a month. The fact that Royce kept him around longer than a few days had led Daniel to believe Royce would claim him. It had taken Royce months to get rid of him.

Royce glanced over his shoulder. Daniel was staring straight at him. Shit. Royce thought about making a break for the door, but Daniel was suddenly standing right in front of him, his eyes full of hurt and longing.

"Hey Royce."

"Hi Daniel."

"Um...where have you been?"

"Around."

"Oh. Um...I...I was looking for you."

"Why?"

"Well...you know...I guess I thought...that maybe...with some time and uh...distance between us that...um...maybe you had...changed your mind."

Royce frowned. "No, I haven't changed my mind. I'm never gonna change my mind. It was just sex. All I wanted to do was fuck. I'm not claiming you, so get over it."

"But...I thought..."

"You thought nothing. It was just sex. If you're looking to get claimed, then you need to look elsewhere. I'm not interested." Daniel was quickly entering stage one of a meltdown.

"But...I...I love you, and maybe if..."

"You don't love me, Daniel! We just had sex! Like a hundred times! That's not love. That's fucking!"

Daniel slowly shook his head and blinked back tears. "I'd be a good slave for you. I really would. I'm very obedient and...maybe if you just gave it a chance..."

Royce had had enough. Could this day get any worse? "Leave me the fuck alone! I don't want you!"

"Why won't you at least give me a chance!"

A few people glanced over as Daniel grew louder and more visibly upset.

"Look. I don't need this shit. Go home, Daniel. Forget we ever met."

Daniel shook his head. "No!"

It all happened at once.

Royce stood up.

Daniel smacked the side of his own face and screamed.

"He hit me! He hit me!"

Royce looked at him. "What? No I didn't!"

Daniel screamed and cried. "He hit me! Why are you so mean to me? Why do you beat me?"

Royce's eyes grew wide as a crowd started to move in on them, murmuring and shaking their heads.

"I didn't hit him! He's lying!"

Daniel was hysterical. "Yes, he did! He hit me! He doesn't want me! He slept with me and promised to collar me! Now he doesn't want me!"

The crowd grew louder. The bartender picked up the phone.

Royce started moving towards the door. Just as he reached it, a short man with white blonde hair and steel blue eyes walked in. His skin was a waxy pale color. His lips were thin and blood red. He wore a black suit with beige tie. On his lapel was a small gold pin of an M with two whips across it in an X. Behind him was a huge man, 7 feet tall with muscles bulging from all sides.

He provided a backdrop for the smaller man.

The little man sneered.

"Looks like we arrived to catch you right in the act. Seize him."

The huge man stepped forward and grabbed Royce, dragging him out of the club and towards a white van.

"What the fuck! Get off of me! Who are you?"

The small man smiled an evil, wicked, sick smile.

"My name is Perlson. I'm with the Masters Ministry of the United States. I'm here on a best practices exchange trip with the French Masters Ministry."

Royce started shaking. The Masters Ministry?

"Look, I didn't touch that slave! I did not hit him! I didn't!"

Perlson's smile broadened. He looked maniacal. "Oh, I'm not here for that, although you can rest assured that we will address that as well. I'm here because we received a credible report that you brutally raped a slave a few months ago in the United States."

"What? No! I didn't! I didn't!"

Perlson shrugged. "Nevertheless, the report was credible. We have no reason to believe it's false. But don't worry. You won't be extradited to the United States. The French have perfected some very interesting corrective training tools that I would like to witness in action in order to determine if they would be useful in the American program. You can assist. I prefer to practice on live masters. Scream levels are a very important indication of a tool's usefulness."

Royce was shoved inside the van and the doors slammed shut.

Daniel watched the van drive away. His boyfriend wrapped his arm around Daniel's waist.

"That was a great performance, honey. You were wonderful."

Daniel smiled. "Thank you." He turned to the beautiful young man standing on the other side of him. "What did you think?"

Tristan smiled. "I thought you were great."

He sent a quick text to Mickey.

"Mission accomplie."

* * *

 **EARLY OCTOBER**

"Carmen, are you sure you want to walk down the stairs? There has to be a ramp around here somewhere." Carmen waved her hand, dismissing the concerned looks of Wes and Ian.

"I'm fine. I'll go slow. Actually, slow is the only speed I go these days."

Carmen held on to the railing and Wes took her other hand while Ian came down behind them, ready to grab Carmen the second it looked like she might fall.

It was a beautiful October Saturday and everyone was gathering for a belated Mickey and Ian birthdays/Ian is back/Wes & Carmen baby shower celebration. With everything that had happened, plus the start of Mickey's show, the boys had failed to celebrate their birthdays or Ian's return. Mickey decided they should take advantage of the final warm days of fall to have a picnic party in the park.

It was a gathering of everyone they loved. Frank, Quinn, Lip and Wes talked politics, while Rick and Rachel argued about Broadway. Carol and Karen talked babies with Carmen, while Ian, Seth, Kayden, Noah and Finn argued about superhero video games. Mickey fussed over the buffet before joining Rick and Rachel's conversation. Everyone ate, drank, laughed and of course, being Broadway people, sang. As everyone relaxed and chatted, Mickey sought out Lip. The two went for a walk.

"So, have you heard from Michael K?"

Lip smirked. "Several times. It took him awhile to figure out that he'd been duped, but you know...I'm not really sure that's true. I have a feeling that he knew all along what I was up to and just wanted to stick it to my mother."

"But why? I thought they were friends."

"I don't know. I sometimes wonder if the Ks were really as okay with her giving Ian to you as they claimed. They didn't say it at the time, but I think they were insulted."

"What about the money Michael K gave your mom? Is she paying it back?"

Lip laughed. "That did turn into a bit of a mess. Once he realized I wasn't coming to work for him, he definitely got pissed off. No way he was going to accept a total loss on his investment, so he is now a 10% shareholder of Ramken Industries."

"A shareholder? I thought Ramken Industries was a privately held company. I thought it all belonged to your mother."

"It did. Now 10% belongs to Michael K."

Mickey shook his head. "Well, 10% is not bad. That's not much."

Lip laughed. "Try telling that to Monica. She's outraged. She tried offering him the money, with interest, but he refused. Either 10% of the company, or he would sue her in court and make their entire deal public. Bad publicity, corporate secrets revealed, plus legal fees. She caved."

"But you could have threatened to make K's illegal business activities public. Does he know about the thumb drive?"

"Nope and I have no interest in helping my mother. Those files are insurance for you and Ian to make sure K and his serial rapist son stay away forever. If they ever breathe in your direction, you can use those files for protection."

"Thank you, Lip. Thanks so much."

"Don't thank me. I thank you for loving my brother more than our family ever did, me included. I'm grateful he has you. He belongs with you. Just promise me that you'll never let him go."

Mickey nodded. "Never."

* * *

The sun was just beginning to rise as Mickey groaned softly and tangled his fingers into Ian's curls, pulling gently. Ian growled and pushed a little further into Mickey's ass. Mickey gasped and tried to arch his hips up, but Ian had him bent over completely, Mickey's feet by his head. Mickey's dancer body was flexible and limber, so the position wasn't uncomfortable. Ian rocked forward gently and fell into a smooth rhythm, thrusting deep, and despite being on top, falling into the warm essence of Mickey's dominance as it wrapped around him while Mickey whispered in his ear.

"You are my greatest love. My only love. You honor me with your submission and your obedience. I promise to always control and dominate you, but you must never submit to another, Ian. Never again."

Ian pressed forward. "Never master, never."

Ian thrust deeper and a little faster as he felt the burning need for release, coil tighter in his belly.

"Sir...master...permission..."

"Come Ian."

Ian came with a loud cry that dissolved into a long moan. Mickey brought his legs back down and wrapped them around Ian's body. His fingers found Ian's purr spot and began to stroke. Ian purred quietly. Relaxed, warm and happy.

They rested for 30 minutes before taking a long, hot shower together, soaping each other up and washing each others hair. Once they were clean, they threw on shirts and boxers and headed to the kitchen.

"Can I have cookies for dinner?"

"Cookies for dinner? What are you, five years old?"

"Can I?"

Mickey shook his head. "No, Curious George. You may have two cookies after dinner. Do monkeys even eat cookies?"

Ian grinned. "Your monkey does." Mickey rolled his eyes.

Ian sat down at the kitchen table and watched Mickey moving around. He didn't really want cookies for dinner. He just wanted Mickey to tell him no.

Control.

After dinner they debated on a movie.

"White Christmas? It's not Christmas Time. We haven't even had Thanksgiving."

"Doesn't matter. I want to be inspired as I finish the final few songs for the musical."

Mickey agreed. They settled under a blanket on the couch with a plate of cookies and milk.

Mickey suddenly leaned over and kissed Ian softly.

"I love you and I'm so glad you're mine."

"I love you and I'm so glad I'm yours."

"And I promise to never let you go."


End file.
